With the first Sunday of Advent fast approaching, I want to let you know what will be happening here, in my little corner of the Internet, over the next four weeks.
As those of you who have been around here for a while know, every Advent I do what I call a “mini-Advent” retreat for full subscribers. In years past, this has meant sending full subscribers one short meditation each week on the Sunday Mass readings, along with some simple questions for reflection.
My goal with these retreats is always to do something that is spiritually nourishing for myself and others, but also simple, requiring no more than a few minutes of your time each day.
That’s still the goal this year, but after a lot of reflection, I want to try something different.
This past month and this past year have been more than a little dizzying for me. The pace of our life has been far too frenetic, with me scrambling on the daily to care for the kids, renovate the house, spend time with my husband, and meet an unusually large number of deadlines. It’s been a lot—too much—and I need to slow down. If I don’t, I will miss Christmas. Not the day of it, but the wonder of it, the miracle of it, the glory of God bursting into time and space, not as a mighty warrior, but as a baby, nestled up against His mother’s breast.
What I need is just a moment every day to pause and see the wonder. If you need that too, here’s what I’ll be doing.
Traditionally, each candle of Advent has a theme or an idea that it signifies. The first week’s candle symbolizes hope—the hope of Christ’s coming. The second week’s candle symbolizes peace—the peace the Messiah brings. The third week’s represents joy—the joy of the world as the Savior approaches. And the fourth week’s candle signifies love—the love God showed for the world in sending His only Begotten Son.
Over the next four weeks, I want to meditate on these four themes with you, using Advent and Christmas poetry old and new, from C.S. Lewis, Wendell Berry, Madeleine L’Engle, Mary Cornish, T.S. Eliot, Malcome Guite, and more, as our guide.
I’ll start on the first Sunday of Advent (December 1). On that day, you’ll get the briefest of newsletters from me with one poem related to the idea of hope, along with one or two small things you can do in your home to begin preparing your heart or family for Christ’s coming. Over the next four days, you’ll receive four more poems from me, all related to the idea of hope. Then, on the sixth day, Friday, you’ll receive a short essay on the idea of hope from me, that ties together the poems from the week. I’ll also include a few other odds and ends (namely holiday recipes).
In the weeks that follow, I’ll do the same for peace, then, joy, and lastly, love. Each poem will require anywhere from a 30 second pause in the craze of the day to a two minute pause. It will get delivered direct to your inbox, in one email, in both audio and print, and invite you to remember, for just a minute, the mystery and wonder of this season.
Everything will be short. Everything will be simple. Everything will be ordered to giving you just a moment of peace in a wild, hectic month.
The last week of Advent is short, so there will be fewer poems that week. My plan is to wrap everything up with the final mini-essay on December 23. The essays and poems will have their own tab on the main page of this newsletter, so if you miss one or decide to join us half way through, you can go back and see what you’ve missed.
If you are already a full subscriber, there’s nothing special you need to do to participate in it. It’s part of your annual membership. I’ll be sending the daily poems to all subscribers—free and full—but the weekly essays will just be for those of you who make this newsletter possible.
If you would like to become a full subscriber, though, and participate fully in the Advent Retreat, as well as have access to all past archives and all future subscriber only essays for a year, you can do so between now and December 7 for just $39 for the whole year. That’s the biggest discount I have ever offered, and it’s one my family can only afford to have me offer once a year, for a short time. But I want to make this as afforable and accessible as I can for you, so I’m hoping this helps.
Either way, thank you for being here. And please know I will be praying for you, as we journey through Advent to Christmas morning.
Please pray for me, too.
Blessings,
Emily
P.S. Just to give myself a little break, there will be no daily poem on Saturdays in Advent. I’ll then be taking the time between Christmas and New Year’s to spend time with my family, so there will be no newsletter that week.
Emily, you are so gifted. This sounds perfect. Short, sweet, to the point, keeping us grounded during the bustle of the season. Thank you.
This is a profoundly beautiful poem. It reminds me a bit of Father Hopkins' lines:
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
In both, there is a sense of loving envelopment by God of us poor banished children of Eve, and this is a great comfort and hope indeed! Come, Lord Jesus! (And thank you, Emily!)