Although I made it further than I did last year with AdventWord, I ended up unable to blog through the rest of the days. In fact, on the last post (day 19 -- "renew"), I realized I became distracted and forgot to write the thoughts most precious to me. So, here, I am musing about the last of the words, starting with following up my thoughts on "Renew."
I discovered there were a great many times of renewal for which I had no photos. Precious moments of laughter, sacred times of prayer, companionable times of silence filled my memories. For each, it dawned on me that these had been holy moments, moments when I needed to take off my shoes, for I was standing upon holy ground. What a surprise, also, that holy moments can be moments of laughter and dancing as well as moments of reverent awe. This led me to understand that in joy or sorrow, I can look for holy moments.
Whether I am like a quiet child reading, a holy family on an arduous journey, or celebrating with gaiety, I can look for holy moments.
Day 20's word was "greeting" and Day 21 was "child." (The first Sunday of Advent started on December 3; thus, we have twenty-three days of Advent which do not line up exactly with calendar dates.)
I chose this Christmas greeting card to send out to friends and family who would delight in it because the family looks like they could be from Jerusalem. As I enlarged the picture, I saw the artist had painted what looks like dirt under the fingernails. They still look a lot more pulled together than I would after a journey, but the picture had more touches of realism than others I have seen.
Pictures of reality and thinking of others appeal to me. I would like to greet each person I talk to in such a way that I think of the person and his or her personal pool of tears or lake of joy.
My Savior, the child Jesus, grew up and reminded all he met to love others as we love ourselves. We also have Matthew 7:12 -- "Treat others as you would have them treat you." Our insistence upon our way of greeting does not lead a person closer to Christ if he or she is far away.
A child can lead us. My granddaughter delights in the tradition of moving Mary and Joseph. So much so, she used the tradition as the topic of her speech in a second grade public school classroom. She spoke with delight, and the other children asked questions in an equally delightful way. When our relationship with someone we love naturally spills out of us, there's no feeling of "my rights" and "your rights."
The word for day 22 was "believe." Please forgive me if in the interest of space and time, I leave that word (just as I did for the word "trust") for another day.
Today's word is "celebrate." Many families I know struggle with that word this month and this year. Loved ones have died and other loved ones are seriously ill. Families have lost homes to fires that raged throughout my state this year. For each, my prayer is for holy moments, healing and hope; for love and peace when celebration is not there. I close with two poems that came from a dear friend in her Christmas card. The poems were written by a poet unknown to me (Jan Richardson), but I intend to look her up.
May there come
One searing word --
Enough to bare you
To the bone,
Enough to set your heart ablaze,
Enough to make you
Whole again.
Blessed Are You Who Bear the Light
Blessed are you
Who bear the light
in unbearable times,
who testify
to its endurance
amid the unendurable,
who bear witness
to its persistence
when everything seems
in shadow
and grief.
Blessed are you
in whom
the light lives,
in whom
the brightness blazes--
your heart
a chapel,
an altar where
in the deepest night
can be seen
the fire that
shines forth in you
in unaccountable faith,
in stubborn hope,
in love that illumines
every broken thing
it finds.
I discovered there were a great many times of renewal for which I had no photos. Precious moments of laughter, sacred times of prayer, companionable times of silence filled my memories. For each, it dawned on me that these had been holy moments, moments when I needed to take off my shoes, for I was standing upon holy ground. What a surprise, also, that holy moments can be moments of laughter and dancing as well as moments of reverent awe. This led me to understand that in joy or sorrow, I can look for holy moments.
Whether I am like a quiet child reading, a holy family on an arduous journey, or celebrating with gaiety, I can look for holy moments.
Day 20's word was "greeting" and Day 21 was "child." (The first Sunday of Advent started on December 3; thus, we have twenty-three days of Advent which do not line up exactly with calendar dates.)
I chose this Christmas greeting card to send out to friends and family who would delight in it because the family looks like they could be from Jerusalem. As I enlarged the picture, I saw the artist had painted what looks like dirt under the fingernails. They still look a lot more pulled together than I would after a journey, but the picture had more touches of realism than others I have seen.
Pictures of reality and thinking of others appeal to me. I would like to greet each person I talk to in such a way that I think of the person and his or her personal pool of tears or lake of joy.
My Savior, the child Jesus, grew up and reminded all he met to love others as we love ourselves. We also have Matthew 7:12 -- "Treat others as you would have them treat you." Our insistence upon our way of greeting does not lead a person closer to Christ if he or she is far away.
A child can lead us. My granddaughter delights in the tradition of moving Mary and Joseph. So much so, she used the tradition as the topic of her speech in a second grade public school classroom. She spoke with delight, and the other children asked questions in an equally delightful way. When our relationship with someone we love naturally spills out of us, there's no feeling of "my rights" and "your rights."
The word for day 22 was "believe." Please forgive me if in the interest of space and time, I leave that word (just as I did for the word "trust") for another day.
Today's word is "celebrate." Many families I know struggle with that word this month and this year. Loved ones have died and other loved ones are seriously ill. Families have lost homes to fires that raged throughout my state this year. For each, my prayer is for holy moments, healing and hope; for love and peace when celebration is not there. I close with two poems that came from a dear friend in her Christmas card. The poems were written by a poet unknown to me (Jan Richardson), but I intend to look her up.
May there come
One searing word --
Enough to bare you
To the bone,
Enough to set your heart ablaze,
Enough to make you
Whole again.
Blessed Are You Who Bear the Light
Blessed are you
Who bear the light
in unbearable times,
who testify
to its endurance
amid the unendurable,
who bear witness
to its persistence
when everything seems
in shadow
and grief.
Blessed are you
in whom
the light lives,
in whom
the brightness blazes--
your heart
a chapel,
an altar where
in the deepest night
can be seen
the fire that
shines forth in you
in unaccountable faith,
in stubborn hope,
in love that illumines
every broken thing
it finds.
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