Today, the prayer offered from church clergy is so beautiful I had to pass on to you.
Happy New Year!
Friday | December 31
"Words fitly spoken are things of beauty and power that bring life and joy." Dallas Willard "I write to discover what I know." Flannery O'Connor "I can shake off everything as I write; my sorrows disappear, my courage is reborn." --Anne Frank' "Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depth of your heart; confess to yourself you would have to die if you were forbidden to write." ― Rainer Maria Rilke
Today, the prayer offered from church clergy is so beautiful I had to pass on to you.
Happy New Year!
Friday | December 31
Pondering The
Path of Peace
They said we might have snow on Christmas Day! Oh how I love a good snow. The magic of quiet snow falling during Christmas - oh, just the thought of it takes me back remembering Christmases in Kentucky on my snow-covered hill – the wonder, the beauty, the silence.
It can happen anywhere that the heart makes
room.
Lord, make me an
instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen
What strikes me today is that in the first line, the prayer asks the Lord to make me an instrument of HIS peace. I may not ever find my own peace and that is what we ponder so much, trying to make sense of life and its ups and downs. But I can, in the midst of pondering offer to be used – to be an instrument of God’s peace – the peace that we seldom understand, but that we have been freely given through the one who came at Christmas.
Jesus said in John 14:27 “Peace I leave with you: my peace I
give you. I do not give as the world
gives. Do not let your hearts be
troubled and do not be afraid.”
I confess that I am not always the peacemaker. I do not always sow love, pardon, faith, or hope. Sometimes I am dark and sometimes I am sad and lonely even though my home is filled with abundance. That’s why I have memorized the prayer and it is amazing the times during the day when the words come to remind me “sow hope, sow love, understand, pardon.”
Peace.
I know that Christ wants to infuse peace into all of us. He said so. His peace. Not the peace of a quiet snowfall. Not the peace of singing Silent Night holding a candle. But the opening of our souls to receive Him in our hearts – to take on his characteristics of love and forgiveness, of gentleness and hope and of purpose. But in this age of “it’s all about me” we find it hard to acknowledge our utter neediness and we simply just don’t need Jesus – or very much of him.
This Season of Epiphany, open yourself to receive the peace that Jesus brings –now, from eternity past, and forevermore. And in return, offer yourself as an instrument of that kind of peace.
Knowing peace is the gift above all gifts.
Day 25 - Christmas Day
"Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord." (Luke 2:11)
The powerful silence of Christmas morning says "Peace, I am here."
I smile and rest in that knowledge. Somehow, the world, in spite of great turmoil, rests as well. Even as the day comes alive, people are kinder, quieter with the knowledge that today....today, something is different.
I feel it.
Maybe because I believe it. I believe that peace begins with me. I believe angels sing and stars dance. I believe in Wise Men and a virgin birth. I believe Jesus is the coming of God to earth. I believe He will come again. Today is Christmas and I welcome it and I reread the story:
"This is how
the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be
married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be pregnant
through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was faithful to the law,
and yet did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to
divorce her quietly.
But after he had considered this, an
angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do
not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her
is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him
the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”
All this took place to fulfill
what the Lord had said through the prophet: “The virgin will conceive and give
birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”).
When Joseph woke up, he did what the
angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife. 25
But he did not consummate their marriage until she gave birth to a son. And he
gave him the name Jesus." (Matthew 1:18-25)
"Christmas is saying 'yes' to something beyond all emotions and feelings.
Christmas is saying "yes" to a hope based on God's initiative, which has nothing to do with what I think or feel.
Christmas is believing that the salvation of the world is God's work and not mine.
Things
will never look just right or feel just right. If they did, someone would be
lying...But it is into this broken world that a child is born who is called Son
of the Most High, Prince of Peace, Savior."(Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Road to
Daybreak)
Savior who has been born to us,
draw us
to you this day and all days
until we see you face to face.

December 24 - Christmas Eve
Christmas Eve. A day to celebrate our journey of Advent.
Even before getting out of bed, the gift of the train's whistle arrived through
the quiet winter air calling me, saying, "Get ready. The journey is
complete. Just get on board. Just thank the Lord."
It seems everything I read this morning has the theme of the journey. Wise men traveling their slow journey across the desert. Shepherds following a star. Family members arriving to be welcomed home. And we, too, have traveled together, writing and reading, as our hearts have journeyed to prepare for this Coming - this Advent. And I must ask myself as you must, "Am I different this year?"
Listen to Henri Nouwen's thoughts:
"God came to us because he wanted to join us on the
road, to listen to our story, and to help us realize that we are not walking in
circles but moving towards the house of peace and joy. This is the great
mystery of Christmas that continues to give us comfort and consolation: we are
not alone on our journey. The God of love who gave us life sent us his only Son
to be with us at all times and in all places, so that we never have to feel
lost in our struggles but always can trust that he walks with us...
Christmas is the renewed invitation not to be afraid and let
him - whose love is greater than our own hearts and minds can comprehend - be
our companion." (Gracias! A Latin
American Journal)
I love the thought of Jesus walking with us on our life
journey. I love the idea that this is our greatest gift - a gift of love offered
freely to all who will receive it. I love this annual "renewed
invitation" for opening the gift again, receiving it with greater
acceptance and deeper humility with each passing year.
As with any journey, we must gather up our traveling things
and prepare for our destination. Today, tonight, let us make room for this
wondrous event. Let us witness angels singing and stars dancing in the night
sky.
"Into this silent night
as we make our weary way
we know not where,
just when the night becomes its darkest
and we cannot see our path,
just then
is when the angels rush in,
their hands full of stars."
(Ann Weems, Kneeling in Bethlehem)
December 23rd
"I am with you always, even unto the end of the world." Matthew
28:20
It is getting quiet. There is less traffic. Parties are over. The air is still. Travelers are headed home for the holiday. Wrapped presents wait to be opened. The stores are showing signs of change, preparing for the "after Christmas" sale.
Time - almost - to clean up and put away until next year. Time to be still and
know that even as the signs of the
season will one by one disappear, Jesus is here to stay.
Christmas is the first lesson of faith. Advent is the
beginning of the Christian year. Soon we will be considering Lent. We will
leave Jesus in the manger and follow him into his very brief three-year
ministry and walk with Him to the cross and resurrection. And we will again
acknowledge that as that season comes and goes, Jesus is still here to stay.
Month by month, we will move through our new year and be
reminded through spring, summer and fall that life moves and we move with it.
We will say good-bye to some we love. We will experience illnesses and trials
of varying sorts. We will make mistakes. We will celebrate. We will laugh and we will cry. We will ask
"why" and retreat at times to ponder things too hard to understand.
We will have to work to remind ourselves that Jesus is still here to stay.
Oswald Chambers says, "We mistake the joy of our first
introduction into God's kingdom as His purpose for getting us there. Yet God's
purpose in getting us into His kingdom is that we may realize all that
identification with Jesus Christ means." (My Utmost for His Highest,
December 23)
And so when the twinkling stars are shielded by clouds and
singing angels cannot be heard, we will know they are there - somewhere.
Because we trust in the One who came that night in Bethlehem. We study and search
and continue to learn to trust this amazing truth - Jesus is here to stay.
Emmanuel, you are with us and you are here to stay. Can I
say that of any other earthly thing? But, of course, you are not earthly - you
are God .
Small Signs of God - The Innkeeper #22
"Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone
hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and
they with me." (Revelation 3:20)
We were traveling in Maine and it was late and we were tired and hungry. When the innkeeper opened the door, I knew it was where I wanted my family to spend the night. It was clean and inviting and good smells were coming from the kitchen.
But the innkeeper said, "I'm sorry, we are full tonight."
She must have seen my disappointment. As we turned away, she
called, "Wait, I do have one room that might work. Your children are small
and it is late." We accepted
quickly, thinking we could all sleep on the floor if we could just have a
little space for the night. She said to
go get dinner and when we returned the room would be ready.
Pleased at our good fortune, we returned to find a
"room for two that sleeps five." It was a sight for tired eyes. It was basic with one bed. But on the floor were three
small "beds" that had been created out of cushions, pillows and
quilts. The sheets were folded back, holding
small stuffed animals waiting for three sleepy new friends.
The innkeeper in the Nativity often gets looked down upon, but there was something in his heart that made him stop and reconsider. Maybe he saw the tired weary couple and was moved to help. Those were common people and that was the way babies were born in Bethlehem.
Surely there was a spot for Jesus.
Basic
warmth and safety could set the stage for surprise visits of angels singing and
stars dancing.
This Advent, I wonder what kind of innkeeper I am. Can I
find room for others? Or will I turn them away? Can I be creative in
"making do" when I don't have enough beds, enough time, enough money,
enough energy or patience? Can I go beyond the basics of warmth and shelter to
offer pure hospitality and love with a few dancing stars as a perk?
Jesus is looking for hearts that will open the door to make room for him this Christmas.
Like Joseph, He must be so weary of knocking on hard-to-open doors,
just hoping this year, there might be a small place for him to rest his head.
Would it be in your heart?
Do you hear Him knocking?
What
will you say?
Everlasting Father,
Yes, there is room this
Advent. Enter my heart and I, too, will hear angels sing.
Day 21 - Valleys and Mountains
4 As it is written in the book of the words of Isaiah the prophet:
“A voice of one calling in the wilderness,
‘Prepare the way for the Lord,
make straight paths for him.
5 Every valley shall be filled in,
every mountain and hill made low.
The crooked roads shall become straight,
the rough ways smooth.
6 And all people will see God’s salvation. ( Luke 3:4-6.)
I thought I had done everything so perfect this Advent. I had slowed down and made time for true worship. I had kept my home modestly adorned and in order. I had given to the poor and served the needy. I had baked the family favorites, seen the people I love and filled the birdfeeders with a Christmas blend. And yet, hot tears came streaming down my face at the kitchen sink - somewhere between blending the pate and mixing the fruitcake. I couldn't identify their source.
Was it
brokenness or was it sheer Christmas joy?
My husband suggested I think in terms of an
investment article he had read earlier about Aristotle (my husband reads Aristotle?) and his
ancient theory of The Golden Mean. The Golden Mean is defined as " the
desirable middle between two extremes, one of deficiency and the other of
excess."
My Advent focus took me from Aristotle directly to Jesus who came right in the middle of the history of time. The world had been deficient, struggling, looking for the One who would set the world straight.
And that night, 2000 years ago, God's "Golden Mean" arrived. And since He came, that same world paused and wondered for a night, and since has gone on looking, unsatisfied and excessive.
I ask you - how deep are your valleys this Christmas?
My valleys are deep. But my mountains are just as high.
My life spills over with the fullness of life -
gathering and giving,
embracing and letting go.
It is what Solomon talks about in Ecclesiastes. A time for everything.
And then,
one day...one day it will all be straightened and made smooth.
Great God who sets my world straight, I rest in your promises . Help me to prepare the way....
Small Signs of God -Day 20
Angels
Pondering the scriptures during this fourth week of Advent, there is much thought given to angels and dreams.
Joseph in his dream was instructed to take Mary as his wife. He was told to not be afraid.
Mary was visited by the angel and told to not be afraid.
The shepherds were advised by an angel to not be afraid.
We see a pattern of angels showing up at times where there was what the Bible teacher Henry Blackaby calls a “crisis of belief” or a turning point in someone’s life. It’s a time when one must make a choice as to how they will move forward.
In these Advent cases, it was an invitation to trust in the
announcement of the Messiah.
It’s not every day we are greeting by an angel, but looking
back to Advent 2007, I now believe I
had one of those angel visits in a dream. And I wrote:
'I
am waking in the night, not from worry, but from dreams and songs I learned as
a child. One night I woke to these words, “Jesus doeth all things well.” I wasn’t sure about the song, but I knew the
tune and the next morning I went to the hymnal and found these words:
All the way my Savior leads me; What have I
to ask beside?
Can I doubt His tender mercy, who through
life has been my Guide?
Heavenly peace, divinest comfort, Here by
faith in Him to dwell!
For I know, what ever befalls me, Jesus doeth
all things well.
The conversation in my dream went something like me saying, “I cannot watch my daughter die.” And some other voice said, “ You can do this. Do not let temptation or self-pity get in your way and do not be afraid.” There it was. “Do not be afraid.”
"Befall" means to come up against tragedy or a crucial point in your life. A turning point, if you will. But the song in the dream said my savior leads me and does all things well. I suppose it is what Joseph and Mary relied on. It would have to be enough for me.
2
Corinthians 5:7 says, “We walk by faith, not by sight.” When we can see clearly, it is not faith, but
reasoning of our mind. I have learned to
rely less on reasoning and to trust my conversations in the wee hours, relying
on my faith to see me through.
Jesus
does “doeth” all things well – he comes to us again this Christmas as Immanuel
– God with us - in the middle of the night, during the day through our family
and friends, and before our eyes each and every minute."
Two years later in Rome I would take a picture of each angel
on the Bridge of Angels (Ponte Sant'Angelo)
that spans the Tiber River. Just a few steps away from St. Peter's Basilica,
the bridge reflects the psychological shift from secular to sacred that occurs
when pilgrims crossed from the busy streets of Rome over to the the
Vatican. The Angel with the Cross's inscription reads: "Cuius principatus
super humerum eius," or, "Dominion rests on his shoulders."
(Isaiah 9:6) However, just a few verses before this, the prophet announced that "a
child is born to us, a son is given us."
Wonderful Counselor, who carries the cross for me this Advent, guide me on the
bridge from secular to sacred.
Letters - Day 19 Someone said I became a writer the year I wrote my Christmas letter and described the blue lights high on a snowy hill on our farm in Kentucky. That was a hard year. My mother had died and I was missing her Christmas traditions that I try to keep going in my own home. I was sad and nostalgic, letting my heart travel to new places of grief, unfamiliar places of great loss. A new depth entered my realm of thinking. I learned I could embrace the pain and in embracing it, something transformational happened. When I decided to share my sadness and loneliness with others through writing, it became a fragrance for others to receive. Little did I know I was being prepared for other events that would challenge my heart to depths of loss I never thought possible. Gifts come in mysterious ways.
And I ask you this Christmas:
Have your life events moved you in a direction of transformation?
Oh, I love hearing about your travels, grandchildren and accomplishments, but I wonder more about your deeper thoughts and how you love your family and friends.
Today, just a few days before Christmas, why not write your own Christmas letter. Sometimes we can put words on paper that come from some deeper place. Sometimes it is written to personally identify thoughts and feelings. Trust me, I have written many words that are read by only one person. Me.
Tell me how the Pandemic years changed you, changed your family.
Tell me how you felt when you lost your job or learned to work differently.
Tell me your response when you were told there were no more treatment options.
Tell me how you long for your son or daughter to return.
You see, what happens to most of us is this: when the hard days come - and they will - we want to shut down, retreat, worry and refuse to share our hurts. Pride closes the door to transformation while others who are hurting wait for your story. There is always someone who needs to smell the fragrance of human life by simply
sharing a memory,
remembering a special time,
talking over a concern or maybe the hardest of all,
just sitting with someone and being silent
together.
May these days of our coming Jesus explode in wonder and grace as you ponder his gift.
May you find hope and transformation when you think there is none,
peace when you feel unsettled,
and love always abounding.
Jesus, Savior of the world, Teach us to share the excitement of Christ in our lives, sharing your message of hope and healing. Let us rejoice with laughter like children anticipating Christmas morning. Amen
7 Days Till Christmas - Day 18
Seven days until Christmas. The days are full of good things and well wishes as we make our final Advent steps to Christmas Day. Like you, I have my final list of things to do. It will be enough.
It's not so big when I think about what God
did in seven days:
Monday - Light
Tuesday - Sky and
water
Wednesday - Land, seas, vegetation
Thursday - Sun, moon and star
Friday - Fish and Birds
Saturday - Animals; man and woman
Sunday - God rested and declared all that he had made to be
very good.
Not only the gift of creation, but throughout time God has
given gifts to us and His world. Anne Weems in her poem ,"Gifts from God" reminds
me of these additional gifts: a garden, knowledge, things, rainbows, manna,
prophets, children and then the ultimate gift of love in the form of Jesus.
Talk about a lavish gift giver! My little wrapped gifts
can't begin to compare - unless they are wrapped in the same love that has been
shown to me from Heaven above and given unconditionally. When this, my final
Advent week is over, I too, want to declare that all I had done this week was
very good.
"There are some
that don' t open their eyes
or their ears or their hearts
and they still say,
that's not quite enough.
They wander through
the stores looking for Christmas.
But others open their
whole being to the Lord, bending their knees to praise God.
carrying Christmas
with them every day.
For these the whole world is a gift!" ( Anne Weems, Kneeling in Bethlehem, pg.70)
Great Giver of Gifts,I want to be among the ones who bend their knees to you. I want to carry Christmas with me every day.
Not so fast, Christmas!
Day 17
The quiet of the morning calls me to read one more devotional and savor a little more coffee. We find ourselves finishing up our Christmas traditions in preparation for Christmas Eve and Day.
I find myself looking into my new January calendar, entering dates for
The New Year.
But wait — I want Christmas to linger.
This peaceful watching and waiting and writing have done what Advent is supposed to do.
Slow me down.
And when I go on “Advent time” it suddenly fills me with quiet joy and wonder. I want this time to stand still and
just behold this wonder…this experience of quiet waiting. And I must ask myself if I can enter
this home stretch to Christmas Day quietly and just be in Advent - one
with God.
Maybe it is why we love the sheep so much in the Nativity. They don't have a speaking or acting role. They just come, watch and wait for their shepherd to guide them, feed them and care for them. When I was young I got to hold a baby lamb in my arms and feed it from a bottle. The mother had rejected the lamb and it would have died had my father not known what to do. My sister and I got to care for that helpless lamb and it grew and became a pet that we nurtured and cared for and loved with all our hearts. Hearts that broke when "Lamby" grew up and left us.
Could it be that Jesus, the Good Shepherd, thinks of us as his pet? Has He nurtured us this Advent as we have waited and watched for his coming?
Dependent? Helpless? Needy?
Has he cared and loved us with his
heart so much that he has entered our own hearts and we are one?
If we can answer
"yes" then we have the greatest gift of Christmas.
As a child I learned a simple song:
Into My Heart,
Into My Heart, Come into my heart Lord Jesus.
Come in today,
Come in to stay, Come into my heart, Lord Jesus.
You watch over me
and you stay by my side.
I have everything
I need. Slow me down and linger in my heart.
A Twinkling Star
"We have seen his star in the east and have come to worship him." (Matthew 2:2)
Something draws me to gaze at the night sky. One night there was an opening in the clouds with one very bright star twinkling down. In my quick and limited research, I concluded that it could be Vega, the brightest star in the Lyra constellation. Lyra, according to Greek mythology, is associated with the myth of Orpheus, the musician whose music was so sweet that Zeus placed Orpheus and his harp in the night sky. Lyra has been known as Kind David's harp. But did you know it is also known as the Manger of the Infant Savior?
Looking into the night sky is a discipline I learned during a time when nothing made sense in my life. I would go outside during the night and feel the darkness suffocating me. As I struggled for breath, I would turn from the darkness and look up. Tears would fill my eyes. Strength would flood my soul. Courage would pump into my depleted heart. As I looked up, grace came down and filled me until the next night when I would return, depleted and needy, to be refilled.
To look up and "see" the Christmas star or the Manger of the Infant Savior shining down - oh, not shining, but dancing and twinkling, strong and pure, fixed and secure in all of time and space - well, tears are most fitting. Tears of joy. Tears of gratitude. Tears of awe and wonder.
I love the way one pastor talks about star-gazing:
The Star leads to God.
Only those who look, see.
Only those who follow, find.
Not every one follows.
Those who follow, always find.
Jesus, You who are the Bright Morning Star,
when I look I see you,
when I follow, I find you and I worship you.
Small Signs of God - Day 15
Gifts
A few years ago we were doing some Christmas shopping and got stuck in a traffic jam. Waiting to move forward, my husband looked to me and said, "And what about you? What would you like for a Christmas gift this year?"
I extended my hand to his nose to see what he thought about
the new perfume I had sampled in the store.
He liked it. Then I suggested maybe a bird feeder or some gardening clippers.
He nodded. Or a new sauce pan. He perked
up. I couldn't get very enthusiastic about wanting anything that year and then the
traffic moved and thankfully, we, too, moved on in our exchange of ideas.
Silently, I pondered the question: what do I want? Oh, I can always give out a list of material things. I can find pleasure in the material world. But it never satisfies me. My daughter witnessed this short satisfaction experience in the store where she used to work. People frantic to get just the right one -you know, the latest version that just came out in the catalog. But a new style or version arrives every two weeks. And we just keep on buying. We keep on fixing ourselves temporarily with the temporary. It's like the perfume that smells so good and then fades away.
The real list lies somewhere down in my heart and it wants to cry out,
"I want the world to be peaceful. I want politicians to fall in love with Jesus and get things in order. I want racial strife to stop and hatred go away. I want to not be afraid. I want a broken life to mend. I want a family together. I want my heart to
feel strong. I want no more cancer for Emsley and Shirley and Jack and Diane and Ed and
Mary Claire. I want a miracle for little Josie and 2-year-old Maggie. And I
want peace.... and let it begin with me."
But wait. It is two weeks until Christmas and I have already received the best gift . It's Jesus.
He is the
one who can take my heart's list and check off each one to perfection. My job
is to keep receiving His wondrous gift of love and mercy and grace. The gift of Jesus who came 2000 years ago is a sweet perfume that never
fades or changes. His gift is perfection and wonder, calm and bright.
Once again, Dear Lord, as we move through this season of the Christian year called Advent, we turn to you, the One who came and is among us, walking beside us, cheering us on, picking p the pieces, calming hearts -today, I open my heart to make a way for your Light to shine in my home, my neighborhood, and
Your World .
It happens every Advent.
I begin peaceful and calm, resting in the start of the season of joy and peace.
I pace myself.
Then I look at the calendar and realize the time is passing and I still have much to do. A few presents to purchase. Cookies to bake. Letters to write. I begin to lose my joy and like sheep, I wander off.
Even in worship, I still have things to do.
Things to think about more deeply.
Things to ponder over and over in my heart.
I turn to Isaiah 53. It is about the serious role Jesus
would play in our lives. There is nothing about silent nights or peace or
beauty or calm; instead Isaiah points to the future about an unattractive man
who people will despise. Isaiah writes about people who will hate so much they
will kill the man and sell his clothes. Even friends will desert him. Isaiah brings it
closer to home and points to the reader and says that all of us, like stupid
sheep, wander off and this man - this Jesus - will be the one who will take our wanderings
and stupidity, forgive us and perfect us.
Hard things to think about at Christmas time.
We'd rather bake fruitcake and wrap presents than consider the cost of Christmas in God's economy.
And yet He came.
He took thirty years from His reign in Heaven and
humbled himself to be Jesus, the one who would love perfectly. The one who
would offer his life so you and I might live forever. He comes today as the
good shepherd looking for his lost sheep.
I remember the music of Handel's Messiah proclaiming the very
words:
"And He shall feed his flock like a shepherd; and He
shall gather the lambs with His arms, and carry them in His bosom and gently
lead those that are with young." (Isaiah 40:11)
Great Shepherd,
You have experienced more than I can comprehend,
and here you are this Christmas - feeding me, gathering me,
carrying me.
Lead on, Gentle
Shepherd.
Small Signs of God
#13 The Rose
It's a mystery to
me how a rose bush can die back in the winter and look like it will never ever
live again. Then, quietly, a little shoot springs from the dead wood. Then a
stalk forms and sends out a perfectly shaped bloom. It is a gift and a mystery
and a small sign of Advent.
I could never
explain the words to this haunting carol, but the powerful poetic image of a
flower, particularly a beautiful rose, sprouting in the winter captures my imagination.
And who is Jesse? Jesse was the much
less famous father of King David. Isaiah said that a tender shoot would rise up.
But it would take 600 years of the royal authority lying dormant, then out of
the dead stump comes new life, the tender stem in the form of Jesus, the rose.
Lo, how a rose e'er blooming,
From tender stem hath sprung.
Of Jesse's lineage coming,
As men of old have sung;
It came, a flow'ret bright,
Amid the cold of winter,
When half spent was the night.
The Rose which I am singing,
Whereof Isaiah said,
Is from its sweet root springing
In Mary, purest Maid;
Through God's great love and might
The Blessed Babe she bare us
In a cold, cold winter's night.
The floweret, so small
That smells so sweet to us
With its clear light
Dispels the darkness.
True man and true God!
He helps us from all trouble,
Saves us from sin and death.
Read that third verse again. Jesus, the clear light dispels the darkness.
Remember, things had been dark for 600 years. And then a true man and true God helps us from all trouble and saves us from sin and death.
Bright Christmas Rose, bloom in my heart with
sweet fragrance for all.
Small Signs of God #12
The Train's Whistle
I've been listening for it - the early morning whistle of
the train in the distance. If the wind is just right and I am very still to
listen, I can hear the faint " woo-woo" above the rumbling on the
tracks. Faint, nostalgic, mysterious, but on schedule and moving through to its
destination.
In 1963, Curtis Mayfield wrote the song "People Get
Ready" after the March on Washington. Forty years later in an interview he said the song
was a subconscious product of "the preachings of my grandmothers and most
ministers when they reflect from the Bible." http://www.npr.org/news/specials/march40th/people.html
Those reflections are still happening. And they are still
coming from the Bible. Those reflections transcend all barriers and welcome a
world to "get on board." The whistle of a train announces its arrival
like John in scripture, who announced the arrival of Jesus. Do you hear the Advent whistle calling? Do
you hear the sounds of Christmas coming? Or maybe you prefer the rumblings on
the tracks of this world? All you need is faith and you will hear.
"People get ready, there's a train a comin'
You don't need no baggage, you just get on board
All you need is faith to hear the diesels hummin'
Don't need no ticket, you just thank the Lord
People get ready for the train to Jordan
It's picking up passengers from coast to coast
Faith is the key, open the doors and board 'em
There's hope for all among those loved the most.
There ain't no room for the hopeless sinner
Who would hurt all mankind just to save his own
Have pity on those whose chances grow thinner
For there's no hiding place against the Kingdom's throne
So people get ready, there's a train a comin'
You don't need no baggage, you just get on board
All you need is faith to hear the diesels hummin'
Don't need no ticket, you just thank the Lord"
Great Conductor of the Universe,
as you come on
your schedule,
I wait and I listen to give you my ticket of thanks.
Day 11 - The Visitor
I regretted being away from home when the call came.
My daughter called laughing, "There's a bird in our house. What do I
do?" After instructions were given for shooing the feathered friend back
to his habitat, I called back a few minutes later to check the status and
inquired, "What kind of bird was it?"
She said, "It was a cardinal, Mom." Stunned, I hung up the
phone. Stunned and pleased that this shy, quiet red bird came close enough to
my door to enter, sit on the arm of my sofa, circle the room and exit
gracefully.
For sixteen months I observed the movement of
cardinals. I watched the rhythm of life outside my window move through the
seasons while inside life stood still. Always, there would be a cardinal to
cheer me, to offer solace and hope. Each time they would visit a tree branch or
the feeder, some message would come forth and I would write my thoughts:
November
2007
There
is a canvas outside our living room window that Fall has painted. The river
birch leaves are the color of mustard and closer to the window a holly loaded
with red berries. As Megan and I view our “painting” it comes to life with a
bright red cardinal, working among the berries in the holly tree. I wish I knew
more about birds, but I do know that the cardinal spends the winters here in
Atlanta. Yesterday, there must have been 1000 birds overhead, fleeing for the
winter. Other birds, like robins, sort of stay around, but hide themselves. I
always felt bad for the robin, remembering the child’s verse, “The North Wind
will blow, and we shall have snow, and what will the Robin do then – poor
thing? He’ll sit in the barn, to keep himself warm, and hide his head under his
wing – poor thing!”
Could the
winter habits of birds be teaching me something about suffering? Warren Wiersbe says that in suffering we tend
to fall into three categories of coping. We can escape – flee when the cold
winds come. We can endure – hide ourselves under our wings – poor things! Or we
can enlist – find an evergreen loaded with nourishment to shelter us from the
storm. We, unlike birds, have a choice.
I will choose
the cardinal this winter. Escaping is out of the question, enduring is
drudgery, but enlisting is taking the winter on, finding the bright, red
berries in the cold, singing when the wind blows cold, and trusting that Spring
will certainly come. I am not surprised at wonderful and amazing God – He not
only gives the wintering cardinal the instinct to nest in the protected denseness
of the holly, but also provides food right outside the door of his nest and
places it all for us to view. How much more does he provide for us? As the song
says, “His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me."
For a cardinal to actually come into my house was, for
me, a visit out of the ordinary. Maybe you have had such a visit. Others had
those visits. Isaiah was visited by God's counsel 700 years before the birth of
Jesus. He must have been so profoundly moved by his vision he wrote in Isaiah
9:6, "For a child has been born for us." Mary, Joseph,
the shepherds, and wise men all had visits out of the ordinary. But the
smallest visit to earth was Jesus himself - a tiny, out-of-the-ordinary child
who came for us. And He still calls us today, saying, "Listen! I am
standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will
come in to you and eat with you, and you with me." Revelation 3:20
I open my door today with hope - even in the cold -
and invite Him in.
Day 8 - Faces in the Cold
I missed my exit, flying past my destination, deep in
thought. Driving on for another mile, I
exited to return and there he was - a desperate man standing at the
intersection with his sign for help. I tried not to make eye contact and hoped
the light would change before he came to my window. The man in front of me was
looking straight ahead, but I could not ignore him. I looked at him. He lifted
his eyes in hope. I took three dollars out of my wallet and lowered the window.
He moved to the car and I extended my hand. His face was downcast. He looked
sad and humiliated, but quietly said, "Thank you so much" and moved
away from the car.
It reminded me of entering Notre Dame several years ago. The
poor woman was sitting at the door with outstretched hands. She caught my eye,
but the line pushed me forward. Once inside, everywhere I looked I saw her
face, her hands reaching out to me for help. I was so convicted I worked my way
back to the entrance, found her and offered her my coins. She said something and although I speak no French I understood her eyes.
Why do these scenes make me so sad? Why do I often ignore
the needy who stand on the corner? I much prefer to participate in a cleaned up
service project where the needy are rounded up and brought to me and I can
"minister" to them on my turf, leaving when I feel good enough about
myself and my effort. The single soul demands more of us. We have to look them
in the eye and say something to them. We have to face the harsh reality of
poverty - together.
The faces in the cold haunt me this Advent and I wonder if
three dollars helps. Or if ten people give three dollars, maybe that buys food
for a family - if there is one. I wonder where those faces sleep at night and
if they stand and wait with outstretched hands and signs every day - desperate,
trying to make it just one more day.
Jesus, the infant who comes this Advent, has some thoughts
on this:
"For I was hungry and you gave me something to
eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you
invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked
after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me." Then the
righteous will answer him, "Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you,
or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and
invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or
in prison and go to visit you?" The King will reply, "Truly
I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters
of mine, you did for me." Matthew 25:35-40
This
Advent, Jesus, help me see the faces through the eyes of a child. Make me eager to respond in love.
Small Signs
of God - December Sky
The sky is beautiful in December. It has something to do with the shortening of the days and the distance of the sun as the earth spins on its axis. Funny how the busy colors of the season and the shortness of the days can prevent me from ever looking at the sky during Advent.
But one night I did. We were traveling south on the interstate at rush hour. Both
directions - a sea of candy cane red and white lights moving ever so slowly for
home after a full day. Lucky for me, I was the passenger and kept watching the
western sky with the strong pinks and corals that seemed to put on a show just
for me. At one point, it was as though an umbrella was over all of us, calling all
sojourners to look up and see the wonder of this December night.
Looking up
is hard to do when there is bumper-to-bumper traffic. Looking up is hard to do
when cars are shifting lanes suddenly. Looking up is hard to do when focusing
on the immediate is more important than focusing on the exquisite beauty and
calm of a December sunset. But it is there.
Morning
comes and the sky is just as beautiful. Pinks and lavenders dapple the blue.
Still, there is much to do. Appointments, phone calls and work all create a new
kind of traffic and can steal the opportunity for looking up. Oh, it only takes
a second - just a glimpse is reassuring. Just a quick wide view calms and
refreshes and renews. Try it.
Luke 21:28
says to "Look up and raise your heads." We are asked to become new
people at Advent. Look up when your gaze is fixed on earth. Look up when you
are disappointed. Look up when your eyes are heavy with tears. Look up and be
filled with the wonder and nearness of God.
God who remains constant with us through Advent,
always looking down from sunrise to sunset and through the beauty of the starlit night -
all we have to do is pause and look up.....and there you are...... and we are made new.
Thank you for making it so simple.
Small Signs of God #8 Weeping
The
headlines tear to shreds my peaceful Advent journey. A small child is
senselessly murdered.
God, where were you on that playground?
God, you whose eyes are on the sparrow, who sees
and knows everything, where were you when she cried out, was beaten, tormented
and thrown away?
It is
unthinkable and my heart bleeds for the brokenhearted loved ones whose life
will never be the same. I look for the "small sign of God” and can't seem
to find it through my own weeping.
I return to the
writing of Ann Weems who gives voice to anguish.
"Anger
and alleluias careen around within me, sometimes colliding. Lamenting and
laughter sit side by side in a heart that yearns for the peace that passes
understanding. Those who believe in the midst of their weeping will know where
I stand.
In the quiet times this image comes to me:
Jesus weeping.
Jesus wept, and in his weeping,
he joined himself forever
to those who mourn.
He stands now throughout all time,
this Jesus weeping
with his arms about the weeping ones:
'Blessed are those who mourn,
for they shall be comforted.'
He stands with the mourners,
for his name is God-with-us.
Jesus wept.
'Blessed are those who weep, for they shall be comforted.'
Someday. Someday God will wipe the tears from their eyes.
In the godforsaken, obscene quicksand of life,
there is a deafening alleluia
rising from the souls
of those who weep,
and of those who weep with those who weep.
If you watch, you will see
the hand of God
putting the stars back in their skies one by one."( Ann Weems, Psalms
of Lament)
Holy Infant
Jesus, your tears are joined to mine. I hear the alleluias.