Sung to the tune of O Christmas Tree:
O Christmas cold,
O Christmas cold,
how snotty are thy
dribbles . . .
Here I sit, hoping against hope that the sneezing, aching, runny nose symptoms that make me the perfect advertisement for some over-the-counter cold medicine (Alka-Seltzer Cold Plus is my own personal go-to in such times) are really just something in the air and not a Christmas cold.
But just in case, here I sit with my vitamin C tabs (I’m all out of Emergen-C) and elderberry syrup, ready to trundle back to bed for that plenty-of-rest advice that’s really true (at least in my case).
I don’t mean to blame God (well, maybe just a wee bit), but it seems that the Divine sense of humor always kicks in right about this time of year for me – when the church calendar is full and I’m super-pastor-busy, my body gets zapped – forcing me to slow down into the waiting of Advent.
It’s probably (probably?) bad theology to compare the Advent waiting for the coming of the Christ child to a winter cold, but there you have it – I am nothing if not prosaic.
How is Advent like a winter cold?
1. Both are times of waiting that you’d really (if honest with the self) rather not be doing. Can’t we just get past this to the next (translate: better) thing?
2. Both can be mildly annoying, but comfort is taken from knowing that they will soon pass.
3. Both inspire a longing to be taken care of, to rest into.
4. The worst case scenario for both is that they won’t last longer than 4 weeks.
5. Both go much better if you’re prepared.
6. No one can define either very well. You just know it when you see (experience) it.
So that’s me, off to bed, tissues in hand, waiting for baby Jesus to hurry up and get here.
I mean Blessed Advent.