Give Comfort, Speak Tenderly

Oh, my goodness, what peace I feel upon reading from Isaiah this week!

Comfort, give comfort to my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her that her service is at an end, her guilt is expiated… Isaiah 40: 1-5, 9-11

What beauty and truth these whispered words weave into our very souls this week. This week, our to-do lists are likely growing, as our social obligations grow and—likely more compelling—as the pressure we put upon ourselves grows. When I was young, my mom used to catch herself as she rushed us, and she would suddenly change her impatient tone and cheerfully declare “Let’s hurry up and go so we can hurry up and get back!” It was a reminder to us kids that she was doing the best she could and that she was making an effort to not take herself too seriously. This second week of Advent feels that way. Christmas is still a couple of weeks off and it’s hard to see our way out of the every-day chores and getting supper on the table and remembering to get that last load of laundry into the dryer all the while fitting in the extra Advent preparations and obligations. Remember the Jesse tree! The St. Andrew Novena! The Advent wreath, for goodness sake! Hurry up. Hurry up. Hurry up. In in that hurry, so many details are liable to slip through the cracks. Isaiah’s phrases are like a balm to our bruised expectations: “give comfort to my people…speak tenderly…her guilt is expiated.” So gentle, so loving.

And yet.

“A voice cries out.” Gently, the exhortation builds in urgency. A voice cries out: Prepare! Here we go again: hurry! But what are we hurrying toward? We are to be a “herald of glad tidings; cry out at the top of your voice, Jerusalem, herald of good news!” We are hurrying toward ecstatic praise of our beloved and mighty God. We are hurrying to declare the arrival of our Savior and King whose specific purpose is to love us. We are hurrying to be ourselves, just as He made us.

This is all good and well, but what does it mean in the day-to-day? How do we allow ourselves to prepare and make straight the paths? My solution is always to first check in with my husband, whose sensibilities aren’t as closely tied to social norms; his concern is mainly the big picture…and often encourages the rather bare-bones approach. He advises that I schedule my days around prayer and meals first, then add in everything else. There isn’t time for baking cookies? Use a boxed mix or buy off the shelf. I forgot to buy sparkly red tights? Dress our daughter in the perfectly nice tights she has, regardless if they match her dress. (Obviously, I take his suggestions under consideration rather than follow them as the gospel-truth. Buy the dessert and the tights at the same rushed trip to the store. I’m not a barbarian, after all.) They key, of course, is the ever-elusive art of balance. But if we can keep our eyes on that sweet babe Whose arrival is imminently expected in the manger, everything else will fall into place.