My Advent has not been easy. My mother has severe dementia. I’m unexpectedly estranged from a beloved family member. Far too many of those I know dealing with a mental illness have had an episode. And my husband and I are ending an era as his retirement is just two workdays away.

My Advent has been deep. I’ve spent time in a silent retreat house and hours praying through Advent meditation programs. I have the time now to do what I wished: celebrating Advent as a time of waiting for the Lord.

I have had a common Christian experience: the wilderness experience. I didn’t recognize it for a while … so common is catastrophe in my life. But the Lord does allow wilderness experiences. And he even put Jesus through one. The wilderness, we are told, is the best place to help people learn faith and endurance. It is one way to move to the next level.

I see the next level approaching even as the Advent candles are burning down. It is to spend more time listening and following God. And less time charging ahead and begging for God’s help in the aftermath. God may keep me in the wilderness until this lesson is learned. But I know I will not be tested more than I can bear. Whatever happens, it is for the best for those who love the Lord. And I am one of them.

Today’s Christian mindfulness practice is to listen to your own words. An easy first step is to listen for verbal tics, like “ummm” or “you know.” You can also listen for the number of times that you routinely misuse God’s name. I know I still do. This is a great step toward true intentionality around the words we speak.

As Ruth Haley Barton says, “Growing self-awareness enables us to choose more truly the words we say. Rather than speech that issues from subconscious needs to impress, to put others in their places, to compete, to control and manipulate, we now notice our inner dynamics and choose to speak from a different place, a place of love, trust and true wisdom that God is cultivating within us.”

As we listen to ourselves, we may be able to slow down the auto-talk process to have enough time to ask before we speak:

• Is it kind?
• Is it true?
• Is it necessary?

At that time Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, where she entered Zechariah’s home and greeted Elizabeth. 

Luke 1: 39-40

When Mary agreed to become the mother of Jesus, she learned that her elderly relative Elizabeth also was expecting a baby.  Her first major action was to walk to Elizabeth’s home in a different town.

The IVP Bible Background Commentary says a walk from Nazareth to the hill country took three to five days, depending on where Zechariah and Elizabeth lived. Because bandits frequented the route, Mary may have joined others in a caravan for safety.  It’s hard to imagine her parents allowing her to go otherwise.

Once she was there, something extraordinary happened. God responded to Mary’s act of kindness by letting Elizabeth know that Mary was pregnant with the Messiah.  What conversations these two women must have had as they spent months together! 

Meditating on this, I was struck with the energy of Mary’s act.  Even when I was young, it’s hard to imagine that I would walk for three to five days to go help a relative.  I wondered how Mary did it. 

In meditation, I saw the Mary’s energy and kindness always came from an overflowing of the grace of God in her soul.  Too often, my kind acts come from a near-empty well. No wonder doing good can feel so exhausting to me.

The Lord suggested that I change my process from creating a to-do list and dragging myself along it. Instead, I should spend more time with the Lord in prayer, worship and communication. This will build up my supply of grace so the good that I can do is an overflow rather than a series of drips. Sounds like a plan.