Elizabeth Wood

Dear friends,

I like to think of myself as a competent driver; I’ve been driving a long time with a pretty clean record. (Okay a FEW speeding tickets). I have driven in big cities like London and New York and when in England, I can drive a stick shift on the “wrong” side of the road.

As I get older, however, I find myself less keen on driving in the dark.

Roads that are easily navigable in daylight become more challenging at night; it seems as if there is potential danger around every corner, unseen hazards at every turn. It takes a lot more focus and attention when it is hard to see the way to my destination clearly.

But thanks to the light projected from my headlights, what I can see is the road immediately in front of me. And that’s how to complete the journey—a few feet at a time, focused on the road right where I am, not on the unknown stretch ahead. Those few feet are enough, for now, to stay safe and on track. I may not be able to see all the way to where I am going, but I can see just as much as I need.

Much of the symbolism around Advent revolves around darkness. We are in a period of waiting, of anticipation. The ultimate destination is not immediately visible, but around a bend in the road, out of sight. It is easy to focus on trying to get all the way there—to Christmas, with its glitz and glamor—and pay less attention to where we are right now, the stretch of road we are on.

Advent is a time of penitence, a time to embrace waiting and longing, to think about the world into which we are about to welcome the Savior. To think about our own lives and our readiness for his arrival. How to prepare our hearts and minds for his presence.

I recently heard Advent described as “that moment when you turn off the lights, before you bring in the birthday cake.” A time for collective hush and stillness. To take a breath before the big moment of celebration.

We are not quite there, yet. But thanks to the headlights, we can see just as far as we need to, right now. Soon enough we will emerge from the darkness into a great light.

—Elizabeth