There is so much to comment on right now. If you run into someone on the street, or in the grocery store, even if you don't know them, it is easy to strike up a conversation, "How are you coping in Covidtide? Do you have that problem with glasses fogging up too? Can you believe the US political fiasco? Do you think the vaccine will get here soon?" Ad nauseam.
Right now, I feel like I don't want to say anything at all. Perhaps the only hope I can offer in this Advent time is to shut up and look someone in the eye and hold the thought that we are suffering together, and we both know it. Perhaps with the raising of an eyebrow, we can communicate that it's okay to have pain. If we can acknowledge it without having to probe the wound with trite words, then maybe we won't suffer as much. I don't suggest being rude or unkind or impolite, I'm just wondering if it would be ok to resist speaking.
Perhaps that's what Advent waiting will look like this year, being a people who convey Christ's love and gracious presence by having nothing to say. GS
Watch The Goodness Project Video — Thin Places: The Ward
The Ward is an old Guelph neighbourhood near the downtown that used to be a manufacturing district with housing for the factory employees throughout it. The area has many unique features including murals, repurposed old business and church buildings, and a community garden. The song playing in the background is a cover of "93 Million Miles" by Jason Mraz performed by Sember Wood.