Category: Advent

Advent 2

Listen, hear.

In the chaos of life, a song. In the loneliness of love, a melody. In the dreamless dawn, a word. In the featureless day, a sob. In the exhaustion of survival, a prayer. From the dry, dead wilderness a shout.

Listen, hear.

Don’t listen to the preachers of power, they cannot let go. Don’t listen to the voices from behind, they can only call you back. Don’t listen to the critics who question your ability, they don’t understand the gifts of grace. Don’t listen to the bitter who demand special status, they breed hatred. Don’t listen to the puffed up proud, they have no mercy.

Listen, hear.

The voice of the divine is crying out in the barren places. The voice of love is crying out in hopeless places. The voice of joy is crying out in the grieving places. The voice of mercy is crying out in the guilty places. The voice of peace is crying out in the embattled places. The voice of comfort is crying out in the wounded places.

Listen, hear.

The cry is for you. It calls you and sends you. It calls you to prepare the way. It calls you to break open doors and pull down walls. It calls you to clear paths and rip down fences. It calls you to smooth out obstacles and make the road ahead easy. It calls you to shine with the light of all lights, to sing with the source of all love. It calls you to heal and to soothe, to hold and to calm.

Listen, hear.

You are the pioneer of shalom. You are the herald of the all loving. You are the voice in the emptiness. You are the prophet and the poet. You are the introducer of the divine. You are the cry of the future. You are the hands and the feet of the coming beloved.

Listen, hear, cry, sing.

Advent 1

Waiting. Waiting is all. It feels so close but the wait is just beginning.

Now I must be calm. The earth has just begun to rest. The leaves have just fallen. The cold has just begun to drift in on the wind. The season of sleep is still creeping in.

There is a long wait ahead. Patience.

Waiting. Waiting is all. It feels like there is so much to do but now is not the moment, not right now.

Now I must be still, catch my breath and let it linger inside. Feel the moment and hold back my desperation for the dawn. Light will flow in time.

There is a long wait ahead. Patience.

Waiting. Waiting is all. Sometimes my frustration is hard to still. Inertia everywhere and I scream for change.

Now I must trust. The vision will not die. It isn’t mine to force into life. I know there must be change coming, I feel it in the shifting colours, hear it in far off conversations.

There is a long wait ahead. Patience.

Waiting. Waiting is all. All I have right now is the wait. Uncertainty wrestles anticipation in front of me. Hope and fear bound in a spinning endless second.

Now I must watch. To learn, to know beyond my need. To stand guard whilst conflict rages and hear the cries of battle. I need to understand.

There is a long wait ahead. Patience.

Waiting. Waiting is all. But waiting is not nothing, it is everything. It is drawing deep on all that is to be born.

Now I must have faith. For faith is all that’s left. We are perishing. We are being remade far away. I am being remade in my hidden places. The Son will break my horizon, the day will come.

There is a long wait ahead. Patience.

Waiting. Waiting is all. Not long to go now.