What do you expect?

Someone reminded me out of the blue today that Christmas/Advent is the "irrational season".

Have you heard this from Madeline L'Engle? I hadn't.

This is the irrational season
When love blooms bright and wild.
Had Mary been filled with reason,
There'd have been no room for the child.

That sounds rather dangerous to me for some reason. And at the same time so hopeful and even exhilarating. Go figure.

What do I expect in this pregnant time? Besides the usual ambivalence? In a word, I expect the worst. I do, dang me.

What I *hope* for in this time is that the worst will turn out to be be the best, nevertheless.

For the present, between that expectation and this hope, I labor along in ambivalence. I have especially mixed feelings about this particular notion that's borne out in the following rather poignant quote which accompanied the one above when I googled on the topic, juxtapositioned just so marvelously:

Loving the Wrong Person

We’re all seeking that special person who is right for us. But if you’ve been through enough relationships, you begin to suspect there’s no right person, just different flavors of wrong. Why is this? Because you yourself are wrong in some way, and you seek out partners who are wrong in some complementary way. But it takes a lot of living to grow fully into your own wrongness. It isn’t until you finally run up against your deepest demons, your unsolvable problems – the ones that make you truly who you are – that you’re ready to find a life-long mate. Only then do you finally know what you’re looking for. You’re looking for the wrong person. But not just any wrong person: the right wrong person – someone you lovingly gaze upon and think, “This is the problem I want to have.”

But... And? So? Yes, but. I do hope for the best.

Because I can't help but notice the signs.

I keep being reminded (thanks be to God in Christ in you Bob, and you Jeanne, and you Laura, and all of you, as well) about the reason for the season - whenever I see the extra-ordinary become ordinary and the ordinary become extra-ordinary - in all the lovely little gestures and all the humble but significant gifts, given and received. And even better, and closer to home, whenever I see how when things don't go according to plan, at all, but turn out in the end to be better than either if us had barely dared dream, much less expect.

So I wonder what's being birthed in me - in us - these holy days. Something is indeed stirring. Has been for awhile now. I see such beauty all around us, all the precious babes born into the world, into this little corner, and I wonder; will it be so with me and mine? Will anyone call me blessed? Will I?

What will be will be. Let it be. Tell me once more that all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well - remind me Whose I am. I will and do believe you. I see it in you...

And I rejoice. And so I hope.

But I haven't a clue what specifically to expect. It's bigger than me. I do expect it'll be different. And also the same. Isn't that how it works? Even from the beginning? Is now? And ever shall be?

Is that not very Christ? To be expected?

I s'pect so.

The presents are under the tree. And around and about, as well.

I wish you all the blessed best - the best that you are and have been for me.