Yes, yes, I’ve been lax at posting this month. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve made a blog appearance since before Thanksgiving. For those of you who wait in expectation, that’s a long time.

New year, new mountains to climb.

Luckily, it’s also that time of year when we set our sights on the coming one: that great white eve of expectation and hope for future fulfillment. In Christian circles, we call this season Advent, when we participate in the hopeful expectation leading to the birth of Christ. That expectation starts with the messiah promised to Adam and Eve, works its way through the history of Judaism through hope, silence and promise; and finally nestles its way into the home of young Mary, a Jewish girl visited by an angel and told of an immaculate conception, an unconventional pre-marital arrangement and an incarnated God. From this point on, the nine months of waiting for the baby to arrive are represented by a mere week in the Advent calendar: it’s a small number of days to wait for an event that’s been building through the course of recorded time.  And finally, when the Savior arrives, tiny and fragile, new life begins. And as that life is lived, a plan that has been foretold across centuries comes slowly into clearer focus.

Today, that’s not only the foundation of our faith, but it’s an incredible symbolism to carry across the Christmas and New Years holidays; one which helps us enter into hope, participate in expectation and begin a new story that brings our purpose into clearer focus as we start the new year. As the old year’s final days wane, I’m trying this year not to set resolutions or have expectations; I simply want to live into the new life I’ve been given. Forget “trying” to move on, move out, move up; living into my purpose is something I can do every day, and I need to think as though I’m expecting to do it, not as though I’m going to make a promise out of it.