The theme of our readings this week is preparedness, and each one invites us to get ready for the coming of God. The prophet Isaiah says “a voice cries out: in the desert prepare the way of the Lord,” and in the Gospel we hear such a voice in John the Baptist. For John, a crazy-looking guy railing in the wilderness, preparedness is synonymous with repentance.

Repentance doesn’t speak to me so much, even though the Season of Advent does have a penitential element to it and I have plenty of things I should change. I have habits that don’t really serve me. Over these pandemic months I’ve been more likely to hear a voice crying out in the dessert than the desert, an inner voice telling me that I’ll feel better if I have a cookie. Not only my habits, but my interior space could stand to be redecorated. Even though I want to trust God deeply, I still allow my thoughts to turn to worry or despair. Like the people coming from far and near to see John, I could use a cleansing of sorts, but I think I need something else first. With all of the intensity of life right now, I can hardly think about repentance.

Isaiah also calls people to be prepared, but before they’re told to make ready for the coming of God, they’re comforted. “Comfort, give comfort to my people, says your God.” Through the voice of the prophet, God speaks lovingly and assures people that their time in exile is coming to an end. God has not abandoned them but is still very much with them. God comforts, speaks tenderly, and proclaims some good news. It reassured people in exile, and it’s consoling to me too. Who among us couldn’t use some comfort at this very moment?

What does it feel like to be comforted? For little children, it’s clear what comfort looks like. I remember when one of my nieces was tiny, just learning to walk and talk, she would cry out in need, “Awcomeere, awcomeere.” At first I couldn’t figure out what she was saying, but then I recognized my sister’s voice in her cry. When she comforted my niece she would say, “Aw, come here” and pick her up and cuddle her. That’s how we comfort children. We offer an embrace, a kiss, a soothing word, and Band-Aid. But how do we seek comfort as adults? The voice crying out in the dessert makes me feel better while the chocolate’s in my mouth, but what are some lasting ways that grown-ups can seek comfort?

One simple thing is to add more light to our lives. I’ve noticed how many of my neighbors put up their Christmas lights weeks ago. I also did some early decorating. I’m usually an Advent purist, but this year I needed a little extra light to ward off the gloom. Don’t worry; lot of my decorations are Advent purple. However, whether the lights are purple, white, or red and green, or a simple flickering candle to pray with in the darkness, there’s something about light that’s comforting. As we fill our exterior space with light, we might feel light within too.

Lights and candles help, and so does talking it all out. These days, since we’re all kind of going through stuff, it can be hard to find someone who can simply be present. What a gift it is, then, when I can just unburden myself to someone else, someone who won’t try to fix, someone who won’t judge. I feel greatly comforted when I’m heard. Besides seeking out friends and a spiritual director, I find that my small groups meet this need. I also recently joined a storytelling group, which is led by someone else, so I can just be there and tell a story from my life. I find comfort in any group that holds a sacred space of listening. Even if we’re just sitting together in silence, we give God a chance to enter in and comfort us.

There’s something about Advent that speaks to the child within me. It’s not the wonder of Christmas but rather my deep need to find comfort as winter begins. I’m not unlike a small child crying out to its mother. And when it comes down to it, aren’t we all just children seeking comfort in the darkness? In this season, I feel soothed by the image of the infant Christ growing and his mother preparing a way for him to enter the world in love and care and safety. I too open myself to God, who prepares a way of love and safety. First God comforts me, and then God calls. I open to the tender care of God, and then I can respond to God’s call for change and growth.

I take great comfort in this lullaby every Advent, and so I offer it to you. It’s “Lullaby for a Stormy Night” by Vienna Teng. If you wish, just sit back, listen, and allow yourself to be swathed in God’s safety and love.

By Sister Leslie Keener, CDP

Sister Leslie Keener, CDP is the director of God Space, a community-building spirituality ministry in Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky. She’s a Sister of Divine Providence with a Masters in Ministry and a Certificate in Spiritual Direction and Retreats from Creighton University. She directs retreats, meets with people for spiritual direction, and serves as the vocation director for her community. She also serves on the Coordinating Council of Spiritual Directors International. She enjoys music, dancing, and meaningful conversations.