This seems like a good time of year to reflect on the busy-ness, the cumber of our lives. Our daily lives are cluttered with a mish-mosh of stuff to do. Yeah, it might give us a false sense of accomplishment to check these things off our list, to pat ourselves on the back for “powering through,”  even if it meant getting to bed late. For those of you readers who are retired, you could never imagine that your lives would have been just as busy, if not more so, after you left the work force.  It didn’t take long for my Dad to observe in retirement that their calendar was fuller than it was before.  It was a great amusement when it came to planning get-togethers.

In our busy-ness we have crafted several clever expressions which ruefully describe our situation, our sitz im leben. “I’m trying to keep my butterflies flying in formation.”  “I’m trying to keep all of my plates spinning in the air and not crashing to the floor.”  “It’s become a crazy juggling act.”   AH! There it is! We are juggling, not balancing. Frenetic, not measured. Exasperated, not peaceful.

In our working days, some of us thought we had it all down, that we could manage work and family. We ended up, oftentimes, juggling and not balancing. We have heard of and may have lived the sad tale of the toll that too much work and cumber can leave on a family.  Failed marriage, alienated kids.  Regrets, guilt.  Time lost that can’t be recaptured.

Today one of my fellow Stephen Ministers gave sage advice after hearing of a care receiver who had fallen – yet again. The minister said, “those of you who are younger than me should start now working on your balance.”  When I heard this, I commented that they could mean two separate things, the physical and the mental. This is another example of that time of year.  Balancing on a ladder to put up Christmas lights when maybe that ship has sailed…(!)  Balancing what is essential with what feels to be urgent. The “have-tos,”  like baking and decorating.  Who has time? Why am I trying to build Rome in a day?  (Cue the spinning plates crashing to the floor).   The essential is the ten-twenty minutes spent in silent prayer. The kind, loving gesture extended, especially if it involves a great deal of trust and risk.  Being positive, practicing our faith. Our Lord bids us to come to him, even as ninety per cent of it is his coming to us. In him we find balance. In him we find welcoming respite. In him we are at peace, unencumbered. In him, the “as if” becomes “as is.” In him is unconditional love.

Blessings be unto you, dear reader, in the dawn and Advent from above.

Pastor Art