 I feel a pull to the frantic, frenetic stress, and I'm wondering am I doing enough? It's not just for Advent, it's for everyone and everything. I read Paul's opening words to the Philippian Church and I wonder if he feels the same kind of anxiety. But he's likely penning this letter from prison, a space where he is physically unable to do very much. And so I see a kind of tranquility and contentment surface on the page. He speaks of joy and there is an irresistible bubbling confidence and optimism. I like this kind of expression of peace. Not the typical stoic, quiet, or stillness, but a fizzy, overflowing blessedness. One not burdened by the world's constant usurping of peace, but rather because of all the possibilities, a holy excitement that is spilling out onto the page.