02/07/2024 0 Comments
From The Vicar: Zoom
From The Vicar: Zoom
# From The... - Letters to the Congregation
From The Vicar: Zoom
Dear Ones of St. Columba,
We have a puppy in our house. Many of you know that our dear family dog, Anna, passed away shortly before the end of my sabbatical time and a few weeks later we welcomed Wanda - a rescue puppy from Texas - into our hearts and home. It has been years since we raised a puppy, and I forgotten the chaotic joy that puppy energy brings into a home.
There are many forms of chaos that come along with puppyhood. Just this morning I discovered a shredded roll of paper towel strewn across the living room floor - I have never met a puppy that did not take deep satisfaction in destroying a paper towel roll. But I think my favorite kind of puppy energy is the zoomies. If you have ever had a younger dog you know about the zoomies - when your pup zooms about as if possessed, jumping on furniture and knocking over everything in her path, with no rhyme or reason to the frantic chase. Most puppies have the zoomies, often in the evening. This week we have been taking Wanda on night walks to the local soccer field to zoom to her heart's content, in hopes of less wear and tear on the inside of our house.
This season can feel like everybody has the zoomies, including me. There is a particular pressure to just go-go-go, in the air. I can relate to Wanda's evening desire to just go fast somewhere. The nervous energy is real.
Advent is our antidote to the zoomies of the secular Christmas season. Advent is an invitation from our faith tradition to let go of the stress and pressure of purchasing, making, baking, wishing, and wanting that characterize everything our culture tells us is important right now. Advent is permission to be still.
This week I have been grateful for our puppy zoomie night walks. Each night there has been a moment in the dark where I have stopped to just listen and notice what my senses can pick up: airplanes in the sky overhead, my kids shrieking with laughter as they chase and get chased by the dog, the mist of rain beginning to fall, the chilly air that makes steam when I breathe out and reddens my nose.
This week as we journey further toward Bethlehem and the miracle that waits for us at the end of this season, I encourage you to find a moment each day to let go of your zoomies. Stop and listen, notice what your senses are telling you. Be who you are in the quiet of Advent, the invitation that comes from the quiet and the dark.
with care and gratitude,
Alissa
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