Dwell
Dwell
Hello Twig. Welcome back to week two of our Advent preparations.
This week, we want to begin with a question—not about geography, but about the soul:
Where are you living right now?
Not which state or city you’re in, but where your heart is living these days.
Because during Christmas, there are often two strong pulls on our hearts. One pulls us toward nostalgia. The other pulls us toward cynicism.
The Pull of Nostalgia
Nostalgia is that familiar tug toward Christmas past.
You know the feeling—it’s nearly impossible to get through a single day in December without hearing it:
“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas…”
It’s that longing for how things used to be.
How Christmas once felt.
The hope, the joy, the peace we remember.
Nostalgia pulls us backward. It tempts us to live in what was, hoping we can somehow recapture it again today.
The Pull of Cynicism
Then there’s cynicism.
The “bah humbug” feeling.
It’s the ache of who isn’t at the table this year—because of death, divorce, distance, or broken relationships. It’s the problems that don’t take December off. The exhaustion of feeling like everyone else is merry and bright while you’re just trying to get through.
Cynicism isolates us.
It whispers, “Don’t hope. Hope only leads to disappointment.”
So we pull back. We protect ourselves. We disengage.
And if we’re honest, most of us don’t live exclusively in one or the other. At some point—maybe even this week—we’ve lived in both nostalgia and cynicism.
Advent’s Invitation: Dwell
Advent offers us a different invitation.
Not backward into nostalgia.
Not inward into cynicism.
Advent invites us home—to dwell with God.
Emmanuel — God with us.
During Advent, we remember that Christ came as a baby in Bethlehem for us. And we look ahead to the day Christ will come again—when God will set all things right, wipe every tear away, and make all things new.
On that day, everything sad will come untrue.
But Advent doesn’t only point us backward or forward.
It calls us to dwell—right here, right now—with the God who is present with us today.
Psalm 23 and the Promise of Dwelling
Psalm 23 isn’t often associated with Advent, but its message fits perfectly.
Most of us linger in the early verses—the green pastures, the still waters, the courage to walk through dark valleys. But we often rush past the final line.
So today, let’s stay there.
“Surely your goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
This isn’t just about heaven someday.
It’s about today.
“All the days of my life” includes now.
“Forever” starts here.
God’s goodness isn’t trapped in the past like nostalgia.
God’s love isn’t waiting for a perfect future.
God’s goodness is following us today.
God is dwelling with us right now.
In the green pastures.
In the dark valleys.
And in all the ordinary, in-between days.
What It Means to Dwell
To dwell means more than having a roof over your head.
It means abiding.
Remaining awake to God’s presence.
Letting our thoughts, emotions, and spirits notice that God is here.
We dwell with God when our conscious thoughts return to God throughout the day. When we remember—even briefly—that we are holding the hand of the One whose love for us knows no limits.
God is closer than our next breath.
Advent brings us home again.
Maybe you’ve wandered.
Maybe you’ve been distracted.
Maybe God has slowly slipped to the margins.
Advent gently brings us back—to God’s presence, protection, and companionship in everyday life.
So we can say with confidence:
“Surely your goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life.”
A Shift for This Season
Advent is a shift:
from nostalgia to presence
from cynicism to connection
from someday to right here, right now
This was the heart of Jesus’ message:
The Kingdom of God is here.
We can dwell with God today.
Tomorrow.
And every day after that.
We dwell by being present to the people in front of us.
To the problems we’re solving.
To the grief we carry.
And to the joy we experience.
Dwelling in the Midst of Pain and Joy
This past weekend, we helped guide a Blue Christmas service in partnership with a local funeral home. One simple permission offered that evening stayed with us:
Even when things are heavy, you are allowed to laugh.
Even when life is hard, you are allowed to experience joy.
Joy does not erase grief.
Beauty does not negate loss.
Even in the valley of the shadow of death, we can still be surprised by moments of light.
The Invitation This Week
So wherever you are today, know this:
God is with us.
Christ is coming again.
The Spirit sustains us.
And we are all in this together.
Just as Psalm 23 reminds us:
“Surely goodness and love will follow us.
We will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
And that forever begins now.
Eternity is now in session.
A Simple Breath Prayer
This week, you might try a simple breath prayer.
As you inhale, pray:
“I will dwell…”
As you exhale, pray:
“…in the house of the Lord.”
Inhale: I will dwell.
Exhale: In the house of the Lord.
Let it become your prayer as you walk, drive, or rest.
