The Latecomer's Guide to Advent
Week 1: Permission to Begin Again
I am rarely late for anything. This is not an exaggeration. If we need to leave at 7:00, I’m in the car at 6:52 tapping my foot. If church starts at 10:30, we’re walking through those doors at 10:18. Early is on time, on time is late, and late is... well, late is unthinkable.
My wife does not share this philosophy. When we first got married, her approach to time nearly sent me into cardiac arrest. We fought about it constantly. I’d be stress-sweating in the driver’s seat while she was still getting ready. I’d lecture her about respect and responsibility. She’d tell me to calm down, that five minutes wouldn’t kill anyone. Spoiler alert: it did not kill anyone. But it nearly killed our first year of marriage.
