Sing for Joy Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy. For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert. ~ Isaiah 35: 5-6 (full reading 35: 1-10) The Promised One is coming. These Advent days mark our waiting. What is it this year that you are looking for? Longing for? What are ways you feel you are being held captive? What are words for your waiting for this year? This Advent time can bring a new and renewing rhythm for our spirits. Here in these intentional December days we are invited to see, pray and live into what is next for us. As we slow our pace and shift our focus, we are welcomed into the joy of anticipation. There is new energy and excitement here. In this waiting it’s as though we can sense this new place coming alive in us, even before it happens. The writer in Isaiah names this joy in the verses above. We are told that the blind will see, the lame will leap like a deer and those who have not spoken will sing songs of joy. We are told that water will come to the dry and barren wilderness and streams will be seen in the desert. Allow the prophet’s words to enter into your spirit this day. Allow your heart to quicken and your spirit to dance with the joy in these waiting days. Lean in and keep watching for the Promised One is coming. Breath prayer: “streams” “in the desert” Prayer: Come, Promised One, come. Bring to this dry place streams of life-giving water. Fill our silence with songs of joy. Come soon we pray. Amen. My life goes on in endless song above earth's lamentations. I hear the real though far-off song that hails the new creation. Through all the tumult and the strife, I hear it's music ringing It sounds an echo in my soul, how can I keep from singing? ~ Have you ever heard this sung? The words and melody are hauntingly beautiful. So much of our days are burdened with the pain and hardship. Lowry’s song, first published in a Quaker songbook, brings strength and wisdom that remind us of something greater than what is surrounding us now. This season invites us to see beyond ourselves. Through prayer and song, through waiting and watching we are looking toward what is next. Here in these words is a visionary hope that draws us forward. It’s almost as if by listening out for that far-off hymn we will be shown our way toward God’s promise. The echo is the grace and the singing is our practice. How can we keep from it? Breath prayer: “far-off” “hymn” Prayer: Holy God we are grateful for the songs you have given us. Inspire our hearts so that even when we cannot see, we are able to find our way by following the echo that fills our souls. Strengthen our spirits so that we know always that you are with us. And we will be always singing to you, Amen. Remembering to Wait Generations of souls have struggled with the experience of waiting. The Psalms are filled with encouragements about it. Gardeners live their lives by the seasons, rather than a wristwatch. They remind us each spring into summer into fall that life takes time. It is when our prayers become songs and our seeds are eventually harvested that we begin to understand. Grief’s healing comes at life’s pace, not ours. Relying on the Moon: Companioning Grief for 29 Days by Lesley Brogan Rare is it we find a person who likes to wait. So much of our culture whisks us into the fast lane before we’re even aware of it. Tapping fingers and tapping toes, blaring car horns all bear witness to the anxiety this brings to our spirits. And to what end? Advent invites us to wait. Take off your stopwatch, turn off your alarms, step off the merry-go-round, relax your shoulders, take a deep breath (or two or three) and stop. Just stop. Not in the spirit of giving up, but with the spirit of letting go, just stop. For a minute. Or an hour. Or a day. Or a season. Stop. Wait. Let’s see what happens. This day may we breathe a bit deeper and give thanks for the holiness of our bodies, fearfully and wonderfully made. This day may we relax our shoulders and arms and lay down our heavy burdens that we’ve carried much too long. This day may we allow ourselves to intentionally stop once or twice or three times and reflect on the gift of these few precious hours we have been given today. This day may we learn something new from waiting. Breath prayer: “prayers” “into songs” Prayer: God of all ages, we give you thanks for the gift of today. As we learn to number our hours and our days, may our hearts and minds grow more calm and peaceful. In our waiting may we turn and return to your lovingkindness. Amen. Evermore and Evermore Of the Father’s love begotten, Ere the worlds began to be, He is Alpha and Omega, He the source, the ending He, Of the things that are, that have been, and that future years shall see, Evermore and evermore! By His word was all created, He commanded and 'twas done; Earth and sky and boundless ocean, Universe of three in one, All that sees the moon's soft radiance, All that breathes beneath the sun, Evermore and evermore. ~ Aurelius Prudentius (Verse 2 translated by Roby Furlet Davis, for the English Hymnal [1906]) This carol sung since the 16th century can continue to move us toward peace. The tune DIVINUM MYSTERIUM haunts me as I find myself almost whispering the hymn. This love that created and is creating still, draws us in and ever closer to the Holy One, the Alpha and the Omega who loves us all. This love that lived before the world ever was, this love that lives now. In you and in me. Here and all round the world. In the second stanza we are reminded that “all that breathe” dwell under God’s loving care. And as we begin to lean into this amazing grace, this mystery of life-giving love calls us to recognize that this love is not only for ourselves, it is for each one of us. Advent holds melodies that we have heard throughout our lives. Humming them, or singing them out loud invites them inside us. Listen closely throughout this season for the carols that resonate with your spirit. Hold them close to you, for they are ageless, precious gifts of the season. Breath Prayer: “All that breathes” “beneath the sun” Prayer: Holy One of mystery enter in this day. As we listen for your words for us, may we be open always to your lessons and carols. We pray for all sisters and brothers who dwell on this earth and we pray with very thankful hearts, Amen. God’s constant presence Let nothing disturb thee; Let nothing dismay thee; All things pass; God never changes. (The one) who finds God lacks for nothing. God alone suffices. ~ Saint Teresa of Avila (adapted) Advent days come as we are moving into winter. Animals know much about hibernating and these days and nights echo a heart-felt amen to that intention. The cold seems to be settling in. The trees are bare and sometimes they even look cold against the skyline. These are days when it’s so easy to turn inward. These are times when it’s easy to lose hope. My friend Michael has written a melody that accompanies Saint Teresa’s words. It’s truly beautiful. [There's a video found on this website "You're Not Alone" about grief and this song is heard there. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lk4Uy5-gGUg takes about 25 minutes, so find a cup of tea and a quiet spot.] He’s taken these words from centuries ago and relived them to be heard anew. And even without Michael’s beautiful tune, these words can be a loving companion for these “winter’s comin’” days. In our waiting and watching for the Promised One’s coming, we can take heart that what is troubling us now will not last as long as God’s love lasts. Changes come, welcome or not. And our lives often change as a result. God’s lovingkindness is always with us, our true north. On these dark nights, may we be guided by a saint’s words, may we trust in something we can’t yet see or understand and follow on, if just for another day (or two or three). Breath prayer: “things pass” “God never changes” Prayer: God of Not Yet, breathe hope into our coming-on-winter days. Guide us we pray in ways of light and life, so that you might delight in us and as we are ever thankful for you. Amen. Tuesday, December 10th Season of Peace 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. ~ St. Francis of Assisi We are a people longing for peace. Around and within, we know that there are conflicts and broken places. We know that we are spending too many resources of money and time, spending our whole lives seeking after, searching for, and aching for peace. This prayer attributed to St. Francis from the 13th century speaks healing to our broken places. It is in our broken place where grace and mercy hold us. Peace isn’t something we can watch happen. It will come though our daily practice and prayer. Peace comes when we remember who always is holding our hearts. With our whole selves focused, we pray for peace to come to all God’s children this Advent. Breath Prayer: (You fill in your words for where you are wanting focus) “Where there is ____ “ “____” Prayer: Holy One, we are your children, your sons and daughters. Make us instruments of your peace this day and all our days, so that we may study war no more. May peace live in and through us, this we pray, Amen. Illinois winters Each quarter of the moon allows us a lens to see differently. The Waxing Moon bolsters, encourages and inspires us, reminding us each night that more light is on its way. As we move in and through these nights we recognize there are times when we feel that somehow we are more able to see, more able to make sense of what is happening in our lives. Often in these moments, as more light comes we feel a greater understanding of what lessons we have been learning along the way. And somehow with that, we feel the light of the moon returning to guide us on our path. Here in these nights, may our hearts be opened, as we are given more light with which to see. Relying on the Moon: Companioning Grief for 29 Days (adapted) by Lesley Brogan Advent season invites us to see our world differently. On this night of the Waxing quarter moon we are reminded that more light is with us now, more than even just a week ago. We witness again the gift given from paying attention. Decembers in Georgia are different from my memories of Decembers growing up in Illinois. I remember snow on the ground by this time of year. Going outside in Illinois took intention and effort; it always seemed to involve a great deal of bundling up. The wind could blow right through you and the hot chocolate has never tasted better. There was a lot from those Illinois winters that I don’t miss at all, but there are a few things I hope to always carry with me. I hope to long remember the smell of wood burning in the fireplace, the sound of that wood popping and the crunching of the snow underfoot. And I hope to hold on to the light of the moon shining brightly on those cold winter nights. The Waxing Moon reminds us of more light coming. Like the prophets of old, this lunar messenger brings us hope as we journey on. Tonight we see better than before and tomorrow night promises even more than this. Pay attention. Don’t give up. Keep watching. More light is on the way. Breath prayer: “more light” “will come” Prayer: Illuminating One, come into our lives. Fill us with your light and warm our weary spirits, we pray. Keep us watching and lead us on – ever closer to you. Amen. On This Holy Mountain The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den. They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain. ~ Isaiah 11: 6-9 (full reading 11: 1-10) These familiar lines from Isaiah take us to a place in our hearts of improbable balance. The word together returns over and over again. Here in this vision we are invited to live into the not yet. And perhaps it is up to us to shape our prayers around the possibility of why not? It is verse nine tbrings everything into focus. No more hurting, no more destroying, for we are standing on holy ground. This holy mountain, this place we call home was created by the One who first called all things, all of it good. In our shortsighted, selfish ways we have taken what was a precious gift and brought brokenness. It is here on this holy mountain where God’s vision for balance, for peace and justice resides. In and through this Advent season we are invited to welcome in a greater, life-bringing light. It can be our daily practice to work toward bringing balance and restoring harmony here and now one melody at a time. Who knows what all we might do – together? Breath prayer: “a little child” “shall lead them” Prayer: God of grace and mercy lead us into living our days toward why not? (end with period instead of question mark, please). May we no longer settle for what is, but together work toward peace and justice on your holy mountain. To you and with you, we pray, Amen. This I know is true I've traveled through my history, From certainty to mystery. God speaks in rhyme in paradox. This I know is true. ~ “Leaves Don’t Drop” (from The Geography of Light album by Carrie Newcomer) The old shall dream dreams….the last shall be first and the first last…and a little child shall lead them. Carrie’s right when she says that God speaks in paradox and rhymes. God’s way of thinking is not ours and often turns our ideas on their head. Our words seem so true and righteous: “everybody else is doing it,” “one won’t make a difference,” “get back to me, I can’t right now.” They become part of our everyday language until they bump into the One who created and is creating still. Our life’s journey of faith is measured and understood one step at a time. One encounter, one lesson at a time. It’s not a test we are set up to pass or fail, instead it is a vision to live into. There are no boxes to check, instead there are places and spaces of story and connections. This is a season that is filled with mystery. It’s the season of carols carrying us and it’s the time of candles being lit in the darkness. In these days our heart are listening for stories we’ve heard our whole lives. If we listen with our hearts for the wonder of this message, then maybe just maybe we will hear again the cry of a newborn’s `alleluia.’ Breath prayer: “from certainty” “to mystery” Prayer: Holy One of all history and mystery we give thanks for your presence in our lives. May we remember the vastness of your love and wisdom for all your children. May we be reminded again and again how great your faithfulness is. Amen. Light a lamp Hope is patience with the lamp lit. ~ Tertullian Many of us know of this hope Tertullian is naming. It is the hope you can find in waiting rooms and doctor’s offices, it the waiting that happens in the dark. Lighting a lamp is an act that brings with it an intention. It shows that even in the darkness, light can come. To the homeless waiting through a cold and lonely night, to families whose loved ones struggle with illness, to ones who sit and wait in jail, to children who are hungry, to the military families whose loved ones are serving in some far-off place, to the father at the bedside, to the woman who is pregnant with child ~ for all of us this day and into this night ~ light is coming. Love is on its way. The prayers of this Advent season companion us in this kind of waiting as well. We are reminded that God’s loving promise is for all our days. Especially this one. Breath prayer: “hope comes” “in the darkness” Prayer: God of Compassion enter into our darkest nights. Encourage us and lead us through this dark place into a light that will guide us closer to you. May we remember to always, always turn to you. Amen. |
Lesley BroganWorking in Family Experience at Children's Healthcare of Atlanta, Lesley is an ordained minister in the United Church of Christ. A Candler School of Theology graduate, Lesley has just published her second book, Grief and the Psalms: Companioning the Moon for 29 Days (available on this website). She and her partner, Linda Ellis are raising their two sons, Brogan and Sam in Decatur, GA. Archives
April 2018
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