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A Promise
Gratitude
When my granddaughter receives a present, she pulls off paper and bow, looks at her surprise with a giggle of pleasure, saying a sweet “Thank you!” The unwrapping and happy surprise come naturally. She has learned to say Thank You.
I have learned this, too.
If I can begin and end my day with gratitude, then the gift of that day has been carefully unwrapped, examined, delighted in, and acknowledged. God has given me a new day and I can choose to meet it by expressing my gratitude for the life and breath that lets me live it, as well as for work to do and strength to do it. Before I sleep again, I can choose to thank Him for what my day has held before I claim His peace for rest and refreshment. Those two bookends hold up my busy days and increase my awareness of being awash in grace.
Years ago I kept a gratitude journal, in which I wrote 3 things I was thankful for every day. I was recently given another calendar/ gratitude journal, this one leaving 5 spaces for each day. I love doing this. I like rereading those entries, because I am reminded of how many things I find for which to be thankful . Seldom are these related to possessions, although often for relationship. I am grateful for Plenty. I am grateful for enough. Gratitude and Contentment don’t mean the same, but they sure do look alike, so I am sure they are kin.
January 8, 2010: Today, I am grateful for a friend’s hug, herbs still growing in my January garden, starting a new book, making a memory with Skye and Lauren last night (movie night: Sound of Music), and these smiles…
Prayer for a New Year
I have a stone bench on my back porch that I call a sitting wall. A collection of small stones piled there helps me to pray, especially when
(as the photo demonstrates) physical strength has faded. At other times, I pick up and hold like the stones the written prayers of others.
“O God, our times are in your hand: Look with favor, we pray, on your servants–as we begin another year. Grant that we may grow in wisdom and grace, and strengthen our trust in your goodness all the days of our lives.
Draw our hearts to thee, so guide our minds, so fill our imaginations, so control our wills, that we may be wholly thine…then use us to thy glory and the welfare of thy people, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”
~ Adapted from the Book of Common Prayer
After the Star, Following the Light
“When the song of angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are
home,
When the shepherds are back with
their flock,
The work of Christmas begins:
to find the lost,
to heal the broken,
to feed the hungry,
to release the prisoner,
to rebuild the nations,
to bring peace among the brothers,
to make music in the heart.” -Howard Thurman
Advent Song
Not because of law but because of love –
Be it done unto me according to your will.
You wrap me in a Christmas quilt, fragrant with spice.
Rosemary calls me to remember.
Be it done unto me according to your will.
I am not root-bound, but rooted.
Rosemary calls me to remember.
Turn,turn, turn
I am not root-bound, but rooted.
You wrap me in a Christmas quilt, fragrant with spice.
Turn, turn, turn
Not because of law, but because of love.
Advent Lament
Bobby Gross, in his book Living the Christian Year, speaks of giving ourselves permission for both song and groan during Advent. The waiting, the yearning, longing element present in this time were in my thoughts here.
Advent Lament
We wait without words
Behind windows covered with curtains of darkness
With shoulders too weary to shrug.
Wearing shawls of worry.
Behind windows covered with curtains of darkness
Worried, wandering, worn.
With shoulders too weary to shrug.
Sanctus Deus, Sanctus Fortis, Miserere Nobis.
Worried, wandering, worn,
Wearing shawls of worry.
Sanctus Deus, Sanctus Fortis, Miserere Nobis.
We wait without words.
Making Room
Open, door of my heart
Go out, Pain. Go out Fear.
Leave now, Despair.
Come in, Peace. Come in Fortitude.
Go out, Pain. Go out Fear.
Welcome, Forgiveness.
Come in, Peace. Come in, Fortitude.
Bring in Hope.
Welcome, Forgiveness.
Leave now, Despair.
Bring in Hope.
Open, door of my heart.
Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence
Written by Deborah Bray, recorded by Cynthia Clawson, this hymn brings beauty and mystery to my Advent morning meditation.
Advent Lullaby
Advent Lullaby
I think of promises when I think of Mary. She was from a people promised by God. She was promised to Joseph in betrothal. She alone was promised in a new way by God that she would conceive a child that would be Himself. Then she herself promised to participate in this mystery and miracle.
I think of waiting when I think of Mary. The world waited for thousands of years for One who would help them turn around right.
Mary waited her 40 weeks of pregnancy. Did she smile in wonder? In those times when a baby-in-waiting was hidden, there was no sonogram, no medical reassurances. Wondering was different then. Waiting was for the unknown.
I think of songs when I think of Mary. She said “May it be to me as you have said” (Luke 1:31) The next words we read , she is singing praise that sounds like “Joy to the world, the Lord is coming! Let every heart prepare him room. My heart already has!” This was the first lullaby for Jesus. He who neither slumbers nor sleeps and keeps me, chose to enter the form of a helpless baby who needed keeping and sleeping.
Did Mary press her hand to her belly in amazement? As this sweet mystery grew in her womb, did she sing still? As the little butterfly kicks began did her eyes grow wide and weepy? The biggest thing that ever happened to her was so small it could not be seen. As her body and her heart made room did she laugh and cry equally as often and pray to understand?
Did she talk to her baby and confess:
“I’m not the least bit ready,
But come, come anyway.
I’m not the least bit worthy of you,
But come, come anyway.
You need to know that I
Can hardly wait to see your face
So come, come anyway.
Come.
– adapted from the song Come Anyway by Carolyn Arends, and
– printed in the book “We’ve Been Waiting For You”
As the birthing began and song became breathing and bearing, in the mighty work and pain, was God magnified still?
As the minor lament changed key to major praise, did she once again sing with exultation? Did she hold Jesus close and rock side to side in that instinctual gesture all mothers do? Did she whisper her love lullaby and tenderly cradle him as she pondered? Did she remember the prophet Zephaniah’s words? “He will take great delight in you. He will quiet you with His love. He will rejoice over you with singing.”
I sing Mary’s songs. I wait. O come, O come, Immanuel
Stones and Feathers 