Face to Face

An Advent Reflection

Our family lived in Georgia for a while. Down in the back of our yard, near the creek, an old oak leaned to the right. I used to imagine him groaning to his friends, “I think tomorrow I’ll give up standing all the time and lay down a bit.” Every time a storm would blow through the old oak would sway back and forth, as if deciding on whether to keep standing or instead lay down for a nap.

This year, I have felt like that old oak. The heavy rain of family life, the harsh winds of work, the thunder of an election, the dark clouds of racism, and the lightning strikes of relationships have all swayed me. Back and forth. Back and forth. Coming into this Advent season I am tired and want to take a nap from it all. To retreat, if just awhile, until the storm clouds pass.

When faced with the despair of the world, poet-farmer Wendell Berry wrote about entering into “the peace of the wild things.” In the woods, the beauty bounced off the water and there he could find rest. And, while I don’t get to the woods as much as I would like, I do find rest in the small reflections of beauty all around me. A daughter who roller skates down the hall, giggling with her sister. Two brothers, working together and volunteering their time. A wife who holds my hand as we fall asleep. A work project that energizes. A prayer from a friend. I’ll take those small reflections, sure. But, I long for more. I want to see beauty face to face.

We were in that house in Georgia for five years and that oak never took a rest. It stood, continuing to provide shade to the yard. And so, I too, continue in my vocation saving my nap for another day — waiting until the time I can rest in the source of all the beauty.

This piece was originally written for The Washington Institute for Faith, Vocation, and Culture.