Last night, struggling to get to sleep, I was noticing that December is pretty much here. Advent. Newness, new-life, salvation & all that.
It's funny how (for most of us) it's a winter festival – a festival of light at the darkest time, and of life when all around is bare and empty. Good theology.
I've been away from my homeland for about 8 weeks now – when I left, Devon was just beginning to lean towards Autumn, although the leaves were all on the trees, the sun was out and the blackberries were still making my country walks slower than otherwise. South Carolina is just reaching a similar stage now.
How does that feel? I feel like I've been in stasis for 2 months – I've got married, been on honeymoon, been to California and back, etc.etc. – but no time seems to have elapsed in the world outside.
Yesterday, when we were talking about what we'd be doing once our visa arrives and we can finally come back to Britain and normality, Maria (accidently) said, "Yeah, when we're married we can …". That's how it feels – like we've had the ceremony but are yet to actually be married; to actually live as husband and wife.
It's like we're in the Christmas season, but aren't feeling Christmassy. We are in Advent, but the actually new life hasn't really started yet.