Sometimes we hum quietly or sing softly in the dark, but even then we’re not singing alone. Other times, we join in a mighty chorus, encouraged by the sound and swell of so many voices, to see and sing an impossible and outlandish story into being.
Joy is something more profound and permanent than momentary happiness or temporary pleasure. It is bathed in the muck, mire, and tears of living a story – a shared story.
The truth is I don’t want to live in a state of unknowing. I’d rather settle in cozily with the unwrapped mysteries of Christmas morning than experience the Advent uncertainty that must have thrilled the first hearers of John, who knew the source of the prophecy, but had no earthly idea how it might be coming true.