It is the second Sunday of Advent, and I did not make it to church. I woke briefly when my radio station came to life, but rolled over and woke too late for the 10 am service. So, I sit with my Advent wreath at my table, read some of the devotions that others have so thoughtfully prepared, and reflect on the readings appointed for this day--Isaiah 40 (Comfort ye my people) and Mark's appearance of John in the wilderness preparing the way. Some years ago, our staff at St. Luke's recorded reflections for each day of Advent. I was assigned today's readings and wrote this: When I was a young girl living in a rural community where nearly all the extended family lived within a few miles, Christmas Eve was reserved for my dad’s side of the family. It began with church at 7 or 7:30 PM--only the Catholics in our town had a late service. We would fill the row of pews across the aisle from those occupied by our second cousins. After church we drove the few blocks to my grandparent