There is a storm blowing outside. the rain is almost horizontal as it hits the northwest corner of the house. the forecasters were fairly accurate in their description of the weather that was building up offshore yesterday. Last night the clouds were dramatic as the winds moved the front overhead. It isn’t cold enough for snow here, but I have no doubt that there is a raging blizzard up in the mountains. We’ve lived in this house for more than a year now, but we still don’t know the weather that blows in from the sea. We walked down to the beach yesterday but it was before the winds really picked up. The gray sky had a few breaks between clouds and the ocean had a silvery color as small waves broke on the shore. I’m guessing that it is a lot more dramatic right now with the winds whipping up the waves. The National Weather Service has issued a Gale Warning, which means winds of 34 to 47 knots are imminent or occurring. Mariners have been advised to seek safe harbor and remain away from the open seas until this evening.

The ten day forecast says we’ll get a brief respite between storms on Monday and we could see snow by Tuesday or Wednesday. It doesn’t snow very much here and the snowfall will be light. Most of my neighbors don’t have snow shovels and they don’t feel a need to have them. I kind of enjoy shoveling my walks, but you have to do it pretty quickly. The snow rarely lasts more than a few hours before melting.

I’m ready for the weather. I have my rain gear. I have regular bibs and insulated bibs and a winter parka should chores at the farm demand my working outdoors, but that is unlikely. The chickens won’t venture out of the coop during the storm and the cows are likely to stay hunkered in the barn. The kids are set up for heavy weather, with plenty of water in the barn and they can feed hay by dropping bales from the loft into the feeding stanchions. A little rain and wind won’t keep us from driving to church this morning.

It is, after all, the first Sunday of Advent. Those of us in the northern hemisphere have grown to associate Advent with winter. It makes sense to use to begin the year with a season of longing for more light and warmth. It seems natural to have the time of waiting be a time of sitting by the fire and dreaming of spring planting, knowing that it will be some time before we are digging in the dirt again. In the flow of the seasons of the Christian calendar, the new year begins with watching and waiting. We tell the stories of a young mother eagerly, but a bit fearfully awaiting the birth of her first born. We recall the stories of our waiting for the birth of our children and grandchildren. We read the words of the prophets who longed for generations for one who could usher in a time of peace.

Critics of Christianity are quick to point out that they see no sign that the prince of peace has come. Ours isn’t an age of no wars and justice for all. It isn’t a time of equity among people and loving support among the nations. Theologians argue about eschatology and a second coming, but people of faith know that there is still more for which we are waiting. We look for signs of hope, peace, joy and love, but we know that the complete fulfillment of the vision has not yet come.

Advent reminds us that we are not in control of the timing. Advent invites us to practice waiting.

I’ve long exercised my imagination in times of waiting. A catalogue from a seller of dahlia tubers arrived at our house last week. I’ve been designing new dahlia beds for our backyard in my mind for weeks now. Last year’s blossoms were delightful and now that the plants have been cut back and the tubers are waiting to be dug in a week or so, I can dream of even more blossoms in the year to come. We’ve still got just a few fresh tomatoes from this fall’s crop and I am already imagining where we will plant the tomatoes next summer.

Of course I don’t have all of my fall chores done. I’m better at imagining things than I am at finishing tasks at this stage of life. My rainwater collection system should be filling the barrel with all of this rain, but the diverter isn’t installed and the stand for the barrel is still at the shop at the farm. I’ll get it finished, but won’t be working outside during the storm. One of the blessings with getting older is that I have patience not only with the undone tasks, but also with myself. I am not as frustrated with the times of sitting in the rocking chair and day dreaming as i was when I was younger. When someone hands me our youngest grandson, there seems to be nothing more important than rocking the child. Other chores can wait. Of course one of the reasons his parents hand him to me is that they have chores that cannot wait. They have busy lives with lots of things to do.

I also have things to do, but I have developed an appreciation for waiting. Our grandchildren are eager for Christmas to come. I am happy to just wait for now. I know that Christmas will come soon enough. I’m in no rush to push the calendar forward.

I know that the family of our church will bring many different attitudes to the season of Advent this year. Some will have all of their decorations up and will be deep into baking and planning parties and gatherings. I’m content to wait and to take things one step at a time. I want to savor the days. I have time to sit and watch the storm from the windows of my house. The chores will be there when I am ready. I’m at home with the waiting.