“During Advent we dwell in that space between the promise and the fulfillment, praying for the Lord Jesus to ‘come.’” —“God With Us: Rediscovering the Meaning of Christmas”

These days there isn’t a lot of empty space in our lives. We cram more stuff than we need into our homes and more plans than we can manage onto our calendars. We rent storage buildings to hold all the extra stuff, and we keep adding to the schedule like time is an infinite resource.

I once heard a story about a woman who determined to get rid of all the possessions she’d accumulated, all the things that were cluttering her home. She decided not to sell but simply give. Her only stipulation – the person receiving had to tell her what they planned to do with the treasures.

She rushed people through the rooms, trying to help them find just what they were missing.

One by one she emptied out rooms in her house, giving away everything from unopened sheet sets to well-used pots and pans. People came and went, pilfering through her home, and as each one selected an item, she simply asked, “What will you do with this?”

A young mom wanted the vintage rocking chair for her infant’s nursery.  A husband chose the flower pots for his wife’s garden.  Day after day, as her house slowly began to breathe with an openness it hadn’t previously known, the woman found herself lingering with each person who stopped by.

One morning as she walked through her house, the woman realized there was nothing left to give away. All the things that had once filled her rooms were now gone. All that was left was a few photos of her family and the old furniture with all the evidences it had seen better days.

She sat down in one of the rickety old chairs and took a deep breath. She’d accomplished her task; the house was cleared of all the clutter.

Suddenly she heard a knock at the door. Smiling she prepared to tell the caller there was nothing left to give. A woman, even older than herself, stood at the door. “I’m so sorry, there’s nothing left for me to give you,” she told the gray-headed, hunched-over woman.

“Oh, you misunderstand,” the smiling stranger said, “I’ve come to give something to you.”

Curious, she welcomed the woman into her home and walked with her slowly through all the rooms, each one containing just what was needed. Nodding all the way through the tour, when they reached the end, her guest looked her in the eyes, motioned to the emptiness, and asked, “What will you do with this?”

It was a question the woman had never considered. What would she do with all the space in her home? What would she do with all the space on her calendar now that she didn’t have to spend time caring for and cleaning all the stuff?

“I haven’t really thought about that,” she answered. With wizened eyes, her guest simply said, “Make it count.”

I doubt many of us would be willing to open the doors to our homes and allow others to cart off our possessions freely. But the question the old woman asked is one we’d do well to consider, “What will you do with this?” With the time and resources you’ve been given?

As we dwell in the space of Advent, this season of waiting and anticipation, looking ahead to a new year, may we ask ourselves, “What will we do with this time and space we’ve been given?” Let’s heed the counsel of the wise old woman and make it count.