Most of the country has been experiencing unusually warm
weather for the past week, a result of El Nino.Or as one friend sang it, “It’s
beginning to feel a lot like April.” Or as a columnist said, it’s “an iced
coffee Advent.” College girls have traded their uniforms of Ugg boots and
Northface jackets for sandals and T-shirts. Ugly Christmas sweater parties are
not just ugly, but uncomfortable. Dreams of a white Christmas are fading, and
Jack Frost isn’t close to anyone’s nose.
People are appreciating the unexpectedly beautiful weather,
pouring outside on the weekends, soaking up the sun, and admiring the confused,
blooming flowers. But there is appreciation too. The leaves already fell, the
coats already pulled from storage. Where is the crisp December air? Where is
the winter drizzle? Where is the chance of snow causing school kids to press
their faces against the window? However good this weather is, it feels wrong.
Rural folk pay attention to the weather. The leaves
foretell when rain is coming. The berries foretwell a harsh winter. Joints ache
and noses itch when the pressure about to change. As I headed to work in the
70-degree weather this morning, I had that foreboding sense: it’s too warm, too
calm. Usually that means the pressure will change by the afternoon; a big rain
will rush in and cool it all down. It felt like the cusp of the storm. Except
it wasn’t. There is no storm coming, not in the five-day forecast anyway. Just
this uncomfortable, out-of-place, nice weather. So I wear my summer dresses and
hope that next week, the rain will come.
For people in Florida or Arizona or Hawaii, maybe a palm
tree Christmas feels normal. But for Midwesterners and Yankees and
Appalachians, it ain’t right. We want to complain about the cold and worry
about the ice. It’s the season to do so. This just feels…off.
But then I realized that Advent is the perfect time to feel
uncomfortable. We should feel the unease of an overdue storm. Advent means
coming, not just of a Christ Child, but of a King’s Return. We await not just The
Kid, but El Nino. We are to be preparing for the Second Coming as much as the
Incarnation. Storm, calamity, a world of unease. There is an ache in the bones
that this world — though appearing ok on its own at times — is really…off, far
from where it should be. There is the expectation of a storm to set it all
right. It’s different from our typical Christmas picture, but it’s perfectly
Advent.
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