Advent again

Today is the first Sunday of Advent, 2015. It’s the first day of the new church year, the big lead-up to the birth of Jesus. And I’m not ready.

It’s a joke, really, the idea that anyone’s supposed to be ready for the season in which we get ready for something. Like, why should I have expected myself to be ready for Advent? But here we are and I don’t even know where my Advent wreath is. I’m going to have to make one out of four mismatched candles.

I always have this idea that I’m going to be prepped for things, and that everything’s going to be beautiful and ready. But then something always prevents that from happening. Whether it’s a legitimate emergency, or something inside of me that’s afraid to be really ready. (What if I am ready and it’s not enough?)

This is the depression talking again. Telling me the lie that whatever I do isn’t going to be good enough anyway, so why bother.

But here’s where I beat depression: Advent isn’t The Main Event. So it doesn’t matter that I’m not ready. I get another chance, for 26 days until Jesus shows up. And then even if I’m not ready then, it doesn’t matter, because Jesus will wait for me to catch up. I literally never have to be ready. I can just be myself the whole time, underneath the depression.

And you can, too. You don’t ever have to be ready. You can just be yourself. And that’s going to be good enough.

3 thoughts on “Advent again

  1. Hallie

    Thanks. Now I’m ugly crying! And I guess I’m just going to give myself permission to stop being depressed that I’m “not ready” today!

    Reply
  2. Alice

    Perfect. You so perfectly described what I struggle with all the time. What if I do everything, and it isn’t enough? Thank you!

    Reply
  3. Heather mcneill

    I felt the same way today. Actually, every year I am never ready. And today I really, really wanted to find the candles. But I knew I needed new ones so I said I would make it to the store, but I didn’t. Then, I said that I wanted real greenery, but I never made it yobthe proper place to purchase any. Perfectionism makes depression I think.

    Reply

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