This Sunday marks the beginning of another Advent, the season of quiet reflection and eager anticipation that falls before Christmas, in which we still our souls and quiet our minds to prepare to greet the coming of Jesus with joy.

At least in theory.

This year, as every year, Advent seems to come too soon, tripping over the heels of Thanksgiving and plunging us suddenly into a new season. For many of us, the stillness of Advent will really be a frenzy of parties and concerts and holiday preparation. For others, the cold and darkness of these December days will make it hard to feel like we want to rejoice, or the grief of loved ones lost will tinges every special day with sadness. I, for one, continue to be in denial about the arrival of colder winter weather, which I’m still pretending won’t come this year.

But God shows up, in any case, whether we feel like it or not.

But that’s the most Adventy part of the whole thing. God shows up, whether we are ready or not. Whether we’re awake or asleep, lamps full of oil or empty, long before we expect it and after unimaginable delays, God shows up in our lives and in our worlds. In the darkest days of the year, in the darkest eras of our lives, in a tucked-away manger in a small town outside the holy city, God shows up, and the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

So your Advent this year might not be too quiet. Or it might be too quiet. It might be cold, and dark, or it might be warm and cozy. But whatever it is: Keep one eye open for the coming of Christ. Expect some unexpected grace. Prepare to be unprepared for joy to appear in a place you never would have imagined.