What is Advent, Really?

Hey everyone! This blog belongs to the “Advent Series” that’ll run from December 1st to January 19th. In this series of fictional short stories, I’ll be writing from different points of view, exploring how folks from various walks of life—from college grads to business executives to those in recovery—articulate why the meaning of Christmas, “God is with us,” matters to the people they come across. Through these fictional stories, I’ll be engaging with examples of how to have conversations (or not) about Advent in a variety of scenarios. Enjoy!

Nina sat in the kitchen, waiting for her Pop Tart to heat up in the toaster oven. Her wispy hair was pulled back, and she breathed deep and even. Her hip was bothering her; it always did during the winter, but this first week of December she was feeling it more than usual. She’d taken an Advil and pulled on a sweater, and waited for the night to get a little later so she could sleep. She also waited for the Pop Tart. She liked Pop Tarts.

Irene, the shelter manager, walked in with a notebook. She was a tall woman who never wore makeup and always looked you in the eye. “I thought someone was in here,” she said. “Are you alright, Nina.”

“Oh, yes. Y’know, my hip.”

“I do. Kitchen hours are over soon.”

“I know. I’ll finish up and turn on down.”

Irene pulled up a chair. “How are you doing? Your six months is coming up.”

“I’m fine. I guess,” Nina replied. She could see the frosting on her Pop Tart starting to melt. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want to use the chart?” Irene asked.

All around the Robin Harlow Center for Women were posters, charts, and signs. Some above the sink or washing machines said Keep your things clean! or 5 Tips for House Hygiene. Others adorned the walls with messages about conflict management, budgeting, or how to phrase emotions. The chart Irene referenced was a primary-colored chart with different cartoon faces labelled sad or angry or confused. Some were even more specific, like embarrassed or melancholy.

“Melancholy,” Nina said. “Or maybe frustrated. I’m an old woman and I’m in a shelter. I want to be with my family.”

“That’s understandable,” Irene replied.

“I’ve done a lot of stuff,” Nina continued. “I’ve maybe not been perfect, or stuff like that. All these group sessions have shown me that. I just…it’s the Christmas month, you know? And I want to be with my girls. Not my ex so much, he sucks, but I miss my girls a lot.”

The toaster oven beeped. Nina sighed and went to get up, but Irene motioned for her to stay seated. She put the Pop Tart on a plate and brought it to Nina.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“How’s attending church going?” Irene asked. As a part of living at the shelter, Nina had to keep her room clean, attend group sessions, and continue to meet with her court-appointed counselor. She also had to regularly go to a local church, something that was happening only recently.

“It’s alright,” Nina mumbled through a mouthful of Pop Tart. She brushed crumbs off her lap. “Sorry, I’ll sweep that up. Church is fine. We’re doing this new thing now with Advent. I grew up going to church and stuff, but there’s a lot that’s different coming back now.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I thought that Advent was just waiting for Christmas.”

“It’s not?” At this, Irene looked genuinely confused, and Nina felt the surge of satisfaction that came with getting to explain something.

“No, see, Advent is more like doing something than not doing something.” Nina reached in her coat pocket and brought out the program from a couple days ago. It was creased and slightly blue. “It’s like…Advent is about changing and making room.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Irene replied.

Nina took another bite of pastry. “We talked about…” She started to read. “‘Advent is about learning to love Jesus more than anything else.’”

“Huh,” Irene said. “I guess that makes sense. I’ve never heard it put that way.”

“I don’t really like it,” Nina said frankly. “I want to see my family. I love my girls. I want to have my own apartment. I want my hip to feel better. I’m tired of feeling guilty and tired and lonely and in pain.”

“Nina, that’s a really good way to name your feelings.”

“Damn right it is. See, trouble is it’s hard to love Jesus more than all that wanting. I don’t really know how to do it.” She finished her Pop Tart. “I don’t know. It still seems pretty important, the way everyone was going on about it at church. And like, Jesus is God, so there’s nobody more in charge than Him. Like I’m not God. You’re not God, though you can act like it.”

Irene laughed at that. “You’re a character, Nina.”

Nine didn’t know if Irene was really thinking about Advent being about a changed heart. Despite what she said, she did think it was important. Following the things she loved—even important people like her ex husband or children—never seemed to get her any place good.

It was nice, the simplicity of loving God with all your heart.

“I’ll get a broom,” she said, getting up with a groan. “And don’t worry, I’ll be in bed by ten.”

“Goodnight, Nina,” Irene said as she left.

Nina swept the kitchen floor, wiped down the toaster oven, and turned the lights off behind her. She truly cared about this place, in a way she had never been cared for before. Outside, the Christmas lights on the roof shone bright in the darkness.