Holes. noun. Empty spaces, where absence is felt.

Lee Morley via Flickr

Lee Morley via Flickr

Holiness has most often been revealed to me in the exquisite pun of the first syllable, in holes – in not enough help, in brokenness, mess.

– Anne Lamott

Every year, it bangs me over the head, how much I expect every moment of Advent to be glittery and Kodak-worthy. It never meets expectations.

Paper snowflakes and stockings hang from our walls, baby bulbs from our baby tree. The chalkboard whispers Christmas wishes. I wear all the plaid and play all the music. Presents are wrapped in kraft paper with care.

And underneath the twinkle lights, I’m still scared. I’m still lonely. I’m still broken.

I’m longing to know what my future holds when my concrete plans run out. The boy is too far away, and it looks like he will stay there for too long, and I’m too angsty about it. My control muscle keeps spasming, when the 7th graders won’t stop talking in class, and when the months ahead feel too uncertain, and when the student loan payments loom, and when I can’t patch my messes.

The world feels it too. Others have holes much deeper, more painful, than mine. While we light candles and hang ornaments, the hunger and abuse and terrorism and racism and violence remain. We flail in fear. We look for answers no one has. God’s people cry, O Come, O Come, Emmanuel, and there is silence.

It hurts.

This Advent, I pray that we would let it hurt. This season centers on the longing of a world not yet perfect. We are watching and waiting for the Lord, praying for his presence as we see our need. We will still have fear and loneliness and brokenness. But this Christmas, I pray those things won’t lead us to solitary panic, or desperation for Christmas Eve engagements, or cynicism.

Instead, in those holes of hurt and longing, may we seek the quiet presence of God with us.

When we can’t be merry because life is hard, may we admit it, and hear the holy words “Me, too.” When we struggle, wondering when the Prince of Peace will reign, may we pay attention for his presence. When we hurt, may we search for the Healer and Counselor, holding fast to the promise that Emmanuel shall come. May his presence, his holiness, his promises, fill the holes in our broken souls and our broken world.


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