Emmanuel

 I've never been one to deny reality.
Even in times of darkness and chaos,
I can look for points of light
and acknowledge
that beauty and goodness remain -
even if diminished to the point of being hidden.

 But in this bleakest of mid-winters,

I've wanted distortion and illusion.

I've wanted not just points of light
but snowflakes

  

and stars

 

snowmen

ornaments

 and candy canes.

My soul has cried out for soft and blurred.

I've been so busy this Advent
being in the world

 that I've lost sight of the meaning for this whole season.

 Advent invites us to grow in patience,
to position our lives so that we don't miss sight of what God is doing
in all the world;
it invites us to remember that God comes in vulnerability and smallness.

Advent gives us a chance to slow down,
to spread our lives and hearts before God,
and patiently watch
for where the light of God is falling.

I feel compelled,

even at this late date,

to take time to sit
and just breathe;

to wait in silence,

hope

and trust 

that God is still God.

God is with us, even when we're frightened for the future.

God is with us, even as we fight for what we believe to be right.

God is with us, even when we are tired.

God is with us, even when we are sad.

God is with us, even when we can't get a grip or find our balance

God is with us, even when our world seems ready to swallow us whole.

God is with us, even when people say all lives don't matter 

or that some of us need to get over it and move on.

God is with us, even when the house is a wreck.
God is with us, even when the country is a wreck.

God is with us when we're a wreck.

We are who we are
and we are here,

but he is here too.

God is with us. 

God is with us, not despite the suffering, 

but in the suffering.

My friends,

may we help each other know that the One we are waiting for 

is waiting for us. 

May we feel His presence. 

On this holy night,

may each of us know ourselves as we really are: 

beloved, welcome.

Already home.