An Advent Point of View

It felt like he was in a Hollywood production, like the camera of his heart was pulling back from the table where the people he loved most were devouring the meal surrounded by endless banter. He was there at the head of the table, close enough to smell his aging mother’s perfume, but removed enough to watch and listen as if floating above.

Pulling the camera closer, he could see the sadness in his son’s eyes. It had been a long year and he was still thinking of the girl who left him last summer. His daughter and husband look happy, now, but there was a time this year he wondered if they were going to make it. His mother’s shaking hand and loose grasp of memories reminds him that they are all heading into difficult waters.

But, pulling the camera back he sees a collage of his life that is an overflowing stream of blessings. How blessed he is to have his mother at the table at all. Watching his wife reach over and gently touch their son’s hand, as if to awaken him from his trance, he never tires of watching the mystery of a mother’s instinct. From this angle, he can see not only those at the table but his father’s portrait on the wall as if waiting for a seat at the table. 

It is this further angle of life I seek this Advent, the one that sees beyond the details to the theme, the ordinary to the mystical. I want to see beyond someone’s late arrival to hear the joyful greeting. I want to turn off the TV that tears at the fabric of my soul to the music that mends. I want to look not to the gift a person may or may not like but to the abundant love within me that caused me to go beyond my Christmas budget, again. 

It is a camera angle I control. This Advent, may I direct it beyond the here and now, to the there and not yet. May I use the camera to see and hear what truly matters.

If music helps you change your camera angle, check out my mix “A Meditative Christmas” on Spotify. Recommended with coffee (or wine).