I seem to be finding them right on the tip of my tongue.

For much of my life, I have been a one season man; football.

Then, several years ago, I was compelled to add another;  Lent.

Or shall I say, it somehow added me.

Lent was a  season that didn’t just grow on me.  But one that has grown me,  Largely, by grounding me.  Confirming  my true purpose. And filling me with the spirit.

In abundance.

For forty days each spring, I relish an opportunity to read, reflect and be restored by the daily devotionals to be found in the Little Black Lenten Book offered at church. Its words always find their Mark.

Now,  I am proud to say I have become a three season man.

One that has found something more than the just the 25th  of each December.  One that lives for “expectantly waiting in wonder” during  Advent.  A chance to get my mind right for the octave of Christmas.  And what it is really all about.

This season, a reading from the little advent book for the first Sunday of the season proclaimed that we should “expect God to show up”.  A perspective that seems more like a calling.  Something much different from what most of us would imagine or embrace this time of year.

At the end of the reading, I was asked to make a wish list for God.  The things I most sorely needed to make the season truly bright.

I didn’t have to think too long or hard to make my list.

Four things spilled  out of my mind instantaneously. Through the end of my pen and right on to that page.  Just like they were meant to be there.

And with New Years right around the “johnny ‘orner”, upon further review, those four wishes seem to be well suited to serve yet another purpose.   As resolutions for the coming seasons of my 59th on this planet.

So if you will indulge me, I would like to share them with all of you:

Patience to understand His plans for me.

Renewed faith in myself as a child of God.

Empathy for the broken-ness of others. 

Love in abundance to forgive and press forward to fulfill His mission.  

Now words may fail me when it comes to describing the joy I find when August finally rolls around.

But not so for the expectant anticipation I experience during those blessed twenty-five days leading to Bethlehem.

Nor for the unconditional love that embraces me during that forty day journey to Calvary.

They won’t escape me through out each of these beloved seasons.

I seem to be finding them right on the tip of my tongue.


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