I don’t know how to do this Advent thing very well. 

Today marks the beginning of the Advent season. Folks can begin an Advent devotional, and pastors’ sermons might reflect upon the theme of hope, the traditional focus of the first Sunday of Advent. In some churches, there will be special Scripture readings and the lighting of the first Advent candle. 

But in my neck of the woods, this is the Sunday that the Christmas season can break out in all its glory like a busted snowglobe, not just because of Advent, but because it is the first Sunday after Thanksgiving, and any doofus knows that after Thanksgiving it’s no holds barred on the Christmas season, even those bah-hum-bugs who refuse to put up their tree until after Thanksgiving.

I used to be one of those people. For several years, the tree and decorations went up on the Saturday after Thanksgiving, usually while I was watching the Iron Bowl. It gave me something to do rather than sit on pins and needles waiting to see how Alabama would try to give the game away to Auburn as an early Christmas present, especially those games played at Jordan-Hare. Last night’s game was no exception and did not disappoint in serving up heart-stopping moments, punctuated by my yells and hand-clapping from my stadium bleacher of a couch, giving my shih-tzu the nervous shakes and sending her running to Sweet Husband for comfort.

So today, along with Advent, is also the Sunday after the Iron Bowl, and some fans will wear their colors proudly: Bama has bragging rights for another year, and Auburn can continue to wear their underdog status like limp toilet paper hanging from the trees at Toomer’s Corner.

Today is the first Sunday that we can sing Christmas songs at church. We’ve got four weeks to get them all in, and the music folks will be figuring out the best way to do it. The musicians will be practicing their heads off, because Christmas music has the weirdest chords and most challenging progressions of any music played throughout the year. The congregation will hear those mistakes, too, because everyone knows Christmas music and has their favorite songs. Mess one up or leave one out, and you’ll end up on someone’s naughty list. 

During this time of year, the church choir will be putting the finishing touches on a Christmas cantata, complete with a lady or two who can hit the high notes during each song’s grand finale. When done correctly, it’s as if the heavens have opened and angels’ voices are filling the sanctuary. But do it wrong, either by sticking out over the group or by failing to hit the correct pitch, and the pawpaws will scramble to turn down their hearing aids a notch or two, the youth will smirk sideways at each other, and the ceramic Baby Jesus in the manger scene will crack.

Of course, the children’s choir is also polishing their musical, with the women in charge scrambling to round up costumes for ragtag shepherds and wise men and making angel wings out of cardboard and aluminum foil. And it will be the women who bear the burden of the Christmas season—the event-planning, the gift-buying, the gift-giving, house-cleaning, the card-sending. They will plan the menu, cook the food, send the invitations, and take the pictures.

Oh, but look out, because the dads will come in clutch with putting together the so-called “easy-to-assemble” presents the night before Christmas—new basketball goals, playhouses, baby doll nursery sets, and so on, potentially wrecking the “Oh, Holy Night” vibe with four-letter words not written in the Bible.

But all that buildup to the main event of Christmas Day really does start today. I can feel it in my soul. I’m already tired of the Thanksgiving leftovers. The proverbial Christmas clock is ticking, and there is an increasing pressure to get.it.all.done. December’s calendar is filling up, and if I wanted to, I could find an event to attend each day from now until New Year’s. The to-do list of my mind is growing, bedecked in garlands of unrealistic expectations.

So, I’ll say it again: I don’t know how to do this Advent thing very well, this lead-up to the day when we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ—Immanuel, God With Us. 

But I’m going to try. I hope I learn something in the process.

I hope. That’s supposed to be the first lesson of Advent.

I hope the potential chaos of the season does not dim the light of the truth that’s at the heart of Christmas. I hope I can truly celebrate Advent, meaning “arrival” or “coming,” which is supposed to mean much more than getting a daily treat in an Advent calendar.

“The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14 NIV)

He’s come the first time, and we have the promise that He will come again. He said so Himself:

“And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me so that you also may be where I am.” (John 14:3 NIV)

I don’t figure I’ll be inspecting the baseboards of Heaven for dust and dirt, as if the angels are God’s personal cleaning crew. I’m just going to be happy to be there, for all eternity, worshiping God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. 

Realizing that truth makes me feel all of the hope, peace, joy, and love of Advent, all at once! It also makes me realize that it’s pointless to try to tackle the Advent season, Christmas, and the rest of life as if it’s just an American Ninja Warrior obstacle course. 

So here’s to letting some things go this year in order to pay more attention to what’s really important. Reflecting on the Savior’s birth, life, death, and resurrection will be at the forefront of my thoughts, as will be seeking ways to share His hope, peace, joy, and love with others. 

It won’t be perfect, but I’m going to try my best. And my baseboards? They can wait until the New Year.

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Reflection and Prayer: Does your life feel too busy to spend quality time with God? What does quality time with God look like? Ask Him for wisdom and discernment on ways to keep the focus on Him throughout this season.