Advent is a time of waiting. The word “advent” itself means “waiting.” Aside from the theological implications of waiting for the savior to be born, this time of year always finds me waiting for that moment when it feels like Christmas. Sometimes Christmas arrives at an unexpected moment in mid-December, sometimes when a congregation holds flickering candles in a darkened sanctuary and sings “Silent Night” to close a Christmas Eve service, sometimes when I go to see my family between Christmas and New Year’s, sometimes not at all. Past attempts to make Christmas show up have been unsuccessful. This year I’m still patiently waiting.

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No matter our intentions each year to head out of town for a weekend in autumn for a planning retreat it’s easier said than done. But the stars are lining up this year and we’ll be heading back to Marion, Iowa, in November. First Presbyterian will be hosting us as they did in 2008.

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Valentine’s Day was last weekend. I just found some boxes of those little conversation heart candies that I had picked up in mid-January as an impulse purchase, stashed, and promptly forgot about. Too late to hand them out, might as well crack open a box. They weren’t what I remembered.

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