DECEMBER 26TH | IN THE VESSEL OF MANKIND

Tiny Savior, your perfect body even now contains

     the glory of the Father in the vessel of mankind.

Tiny hands that skillfully shaped the heavens and earth

     will one day be scarred as they shape the souls of men.

Tiny feet that have already stood and walked in the Garden

     will one day stand and walk to the cross.

Tiny heart filled even now with both the Father's love

     and the aching weight of our sin.

Tiny, fragile blue veins on your temple, already pulsing with

     the blood that will be payment for the huge debt we owe.

Tiny Savior, your perfect body even now contains

     the glory of the Father, in the vessel of mankind.

Poem by
SUSAN RICHMOND

Artwork by
ROONEY ONG JING REN - “Him, Tedd.” Charcoal and pencil on paper.
www.rooneyojr.com

DECEMBER 25TH | ARRIVAL

So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them,

““DO NOT BE AFRAID. I BRING YOU GOOD NEWS THAT WILL CAUSE GREAT JOY FOR ALL THE PEOPLE. TODAY IN THE TOWN OF DAVID A SAVIOR HAS BEEN BORN TO YOU; HE IS THE MESSIAH, THE LORD. THIS WILL BE A SIGN TO YOU: YOU WILL FIND A BABY WRAPPED IN CLOTHS AND LYING IN A MANGER.””

— Luke 2:4-12

---

The newborn king, heralded by angel armies,
Lay without pomp or ceremony 
In a feedbox, surrounded by scents 
Of hay and dust and manure,
Cattle and afterbirth and blood.

Israel’s Great Shepherd was greeted
Not by her high and holy ones,
But by a band of literal shepherds,
Smelly and earthy and common,
Full of faith and wonder and praise.

The king’s virginal mother sat nearby,
Grateful to be far from Nazareth
And the vicious whispers of neighbors.
She smiled at the shepherds’ amazement;
She, too, had known angel-awe.

Her husband, discreet and righteous,
Quietly rearranged her bed,
Working to provide more comfort
For the wife who was his
And the child who wasn’t.

Thus the Maker came to live
Among the creatures he had formed,
And He shared their form:
Tiny, helpless, humble, poor, weakness born
To shame the things the World prized most.

Poem by
MICAH HAWKINSON

---

Happy Birthday, Jesus!

The good news of your birth announced by the angels was not just for the shepherds gathered round the manger or the Kings who found you by following a star, but for all humanity. On the day we celebrate your birth, I thought I’d write you a letter to tell you how much you mean to me. 

You came into this world as an infant who depended on your mother, Mary for all your needs. She was not much more than a child herself on that night long ago, but she knew that God had touched her. I wonder what she thought as she held you for the first time. Did she see the man you would become? Or did she only see her son and feel a mother’s love? Maybe she wanted to hide you away and protect you from harm. Did she wonder what God had in store for the beautiful boy that she held so close to her breast. How could she fully understand what the future held or how you would fulfill your destiny? 

You were fully divine and fully human, but when she kissed you for the first time, Mary touched your divinity with her humanity transposing divine love into human expression. For years, I did not understand the love Mary felt for you. Nor did I understand God’s unconditional love. The revelation came forty years ago, when I gazed upon my newborn baby girl for the first time. As I held her, joy and peace filled every fiber of my being. In that moment, your divine love for me intersected with my human frailty. I finally understood that your entrance into the world as an infant demonstrates that intersection. You were divinely conceived but born to a woman. Humanity and divinity united to bring salvation.

On this day of celebration, I rejoice knowing you remain steadfast and that your love never fails. I rejoice knowing that your divine love still intersects with humanity. What began 2000 years ago in a manger, still brings peace to the hearts of humanity. 

Your adopted sister,
CHARLOTTE THOMASON

DECEMBER 24TH | MAGNIFICAT

At that time Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, where she entered Zechariah’s home and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. In a loud voice she exclaimed: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear!  But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?  As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy.  Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!”
And Mary said:

“MY SOUL GLORIFIES THE LORD
AND MY SPIRIT REJOICES IN GOD MY SAVIOR,
FOR HE HAS BEEN MINDFUL
OF THE HUMBLE STATE OF HIS SERVANT.
FROM NOW ON ALL GENERATIONS WILL CALL ME BLESSED,
FOR THE MIGHTY ONE HAS DONE GREAT THINGS FOR ME—
HOLY IS HIS NAME.
HIS MERCY EXTENDS TO THOSE WHO FEAR HIM,
FROM GENERATION TO GENERATION.
HE HAS PERFORMED MIGHTY DEEDS WITH HIS ARM;
HE HAS SCATTERED THOSE WHO ARE PROUD IN THEIR INMOST THOUGHTS.
HE HAS BROUGHT DOWN RULERS FROM THEIR THRONES
BUT HAS LIFTED UP THE HUMBLE.
HE HAS FILLED THE HUNGRY WITH GOOD THINGS
BUT HAS SENT THE RICH AWAY EMPTY.
HE HAS HELPED HIS SERVANT ISRAEL,
REMEMBERING TO BE MERCIFUL
TO ABRAHAM AND HIS DESCENDANTS FOREVER,
JUST AS HE PROMISED OUR ANCESTORS.”

— Luke 1:46-55

---

She had a secret, and there was only one woman in the world who could possibly understand. So Mary took a trip to Judah to pay her cousin Elizabeth a visit.

I wonder what her heart felt when Zechariah silently greeted her. Was there a knowing twinkle in his eye because the news arrived before she did? What did she feel when she saw Elizabeth, an old woman with swollen ankles and a glowing smile, embracing her tightly against a belly six months full of life. Maybe she was laughing almost to tears, as her baby kicked and danced at the sound of Mary’s voice.

Did they cry together? Perhaps. But I’d like to think they laughed even more. Two women, giggling like children over a holy secret.

***

Look closer. Lean in and listen to their freewheeling conversation, two women improbably carrying hope in their bodies. Two women who believe maybe this dark time for their people will break soon.

Here’s brown-skinned Mary, barely a woman, living in a small backwater town. Nazareth is just a speck on the map of a sprawling empire, and until an angel interrupted her day, she was an unknown girl, surviving the best she could. 

She knows the stories — of her ancestors’ slavery in Egypt and the Maker’s spectacular delivery, of the great King David and the powerful nation he ruled, of the terrible day strangers marched into Galilee and declared, “Caesar is Lord.”

Then there’s her cousin, Elizabeth. Wife of a priest and descendant of Aaron*, bound by blood to legends and miracles. And yet here she was, in the twilight of a life short on signs and wonders.

Her husband faithfully went to the temple when his lot was chosen. She was blameless, faithful, and barren. Perhaps she wept many nights over her unmet desires. Perhaps by now, she had released her dream of mothering back to the God she loved, content to serve the house of the Lord for the rest of her days.

Until Zechariah came home unable to speak. Until the fear subsided into incredulous wonder, maybe with a tinge of doubt. Until she felt the first stirrings of life inside her and knew her dream wasn’t forgotten after all.

Mary and Elizabeth. Young and old. Daughters of legends. Two ordinary women growing, nourishing, and sheltering the secrets of the breaking dawn with their bodies.

***

No wonder Mary found the audacity to sing. Listen to her song, to the pain underneath the words, to the joy ripping from her lungs. This is no lullaby of haloed woman in a Renaissance painting. This is a war cry from a beaten-down people, about to get the last laugh. It’s a ballad rife with images of Caesar’s throne crumbling and the poor feasting in his halls.

It’s the song of an empowered woman. 

YHWH the Mighty, silent for centuries, an unreachable presence somewhere beyond the galaxies, mythical orchestrator of sacred stories — YHWH has turned and looked her way. Noticed her. Invited her to mother a revolution and help settle a new kingdom.

Rise up, she seems to say. Rise up, wipe your tears, shake the dust — the silence is gone. The first light has broken. The Lord has remembered us after all!

And her song echoes onward, for every wounded heart, every trapped soul, every little girl from a backwater town sheltering the flickering candle of a dream.

We are remembered. Hallelujah, we are remembered.

* Luke 1:5

Reflection by
JEN ROSE YOKEL
www.jenroseyokel.com

DECEMBER 23RD | BEARINGS

In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary.  The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”

Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.”

“How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?”

“THE ANGEL ANSWERED, “THE HOLY SPIRIT WILL COME ON YOU, AND THE POWER OF THE MOST HIGH WILL OVERSHADOW YOU. SO THE HOLY ONE TO BE BORN WILL BE CALLED THE SON OF GOD. EVEN ELIZABETH YOUR RELATIVE IS GOING TO HAVE A CHILD IN HER OLD AGE, AND SHE WHO WAS SAID TO BE UNABLE TO CONCEIVE IS IN HER SIXTH MONTH. FOR NO WORD FROM GOD WILL EVER FAIL.”

“I AM THE LORD’S SERVANT,” MARY ANSWERED. “MAY YOUR WORD TO ME BE FULFILLED.” THEN THE ANGEL LEFT HER.”

— Luke 1:26-38

---

How do we bear your promise into this world, 
(barren, bleak, our destitute situation!)
Carry banners far too noble for our lowly station?
The hours push against our hope, unfurled,

Time’s fullness rising, too late, too soon, all swirl’d;
She scales that heavy-wait anticipation
Virgin, bearing marks of sin’s cessation,
Holds court, raises oath sworn on her crown impearled

Like Mary, we without spark to conceive,
A plot that plants the fruit to bear the tree
Watchful witness to such a plan, our suff ‘ring to relieve;  
Flyer, both brace and bearing corps d’esprit
No Word from You will ever fail- that we believe- 
This Banner raised and carried, pow’r: Paraclete

Poem by
KARISE GILILLAND
Contributor at An Unexpected Journal

THE FOURTH WEEK OF ADVENT | A CHILD FOR ALL HUMANITY

“Advent is a time to get back in touch with the ancient longing for God to arrive, move among us, and restore all that’s lost or broken.” (Sustainable Faith)

I don’t know about you, but I’ve really felt that ancient longing this week. It’s not unfamiliar. I think every night for the past 8 years I’ve laid my head down on the pillow after long and weary days with only the words “Jesus, please come. Father, please be with me. Daddy, please help.” Oh, that ancient longing - to be comforted, to be restored, to rest. 

During the darkest week of the year, on these cold and rainy days sitting in stressed-out, backed-up traffic and being sick myself while caring for sick babies and hearing disturbing stories about dead babies - this week I really, really needed to know that God came as a baby. Oh, in all of this broken longing I seem to so easily forget that God has actually been here, to this place where we so desperately need him.

As I rocked a feverish baby and watched the snow swirl quietly outside the window, I wondered if the baby Yeshua ever had a fever, rocked by a worried mother. Strangely, I was comforted by the image of a flushed and sniffly savior. God came and made His dwelling among us, snot, dirt, humanity and all. 

As I gaze at today’s four dancing flames and ponder what words I can share with you this week, I can really only think of this:

Jesus has come. He will come again.

Thank God. 

I am tired.

May all of our hopes be more than just a dream in our hearts. And with just three more days until Christmas, I pray you can lay it all down and get some rest..

Let’s pray this prayer together: 

“SHEPHERD OF ISRAEL,
MAY JESUS, EMMANUEL AND SON OF MARY,
BE MORE THAN JUST A DREAM IN OUR HEARTS.
WITH THE APOSTLES, PROPHETS, AND SAINTS,
SAVE US, RESTORE US,
AND LEAD US IN THE WAY OF GRACE AND PEACE,
THAT WE MAY BEAR YOUR PROMISE
INTO THE WORLD.
AMEN.”

— From The Revised Common Lectionary: Vanderbilt Divinity Library

DECEMBER 22ND | THE NURSERY

In the time of Herod king of Judea there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly division of Abijah; his wife Elizabeth was also a descendant of Aaron. Both of them were righteous in the sight of God, observing all the Lord’s commands and decrees blamelessly. But they were childless because Elizabeth was not able to conceive, and they were both very old.

Once when Zechariah’s division was on duty and he was serving as priest before God, he was chosen by lot, according to the custom of the priesthood, to go into the temple of the Lord and burn incense. And when the time for the burning of incense came, all the assembled worshipers were praying outside.

Then an angel of the Lord appeared to him, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. When Zechariah saw him, he was startled and was gripped with fear. But the angel said to him: “Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to call him John. He will be a joy and delight to you, and many will rejoice because of his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He is never to take wine or other fermented drink…

“AND HE WILL BE FILLED WITH THE HOLY SPIRIT EVEN BEFORE HE IS BORN. HE WILL BRING BACK MANY OF THE PEOPLE OF ISRAEL TO THE LORD THEIR GOD. AND HE WILL GO ON BEFORE THE LORD, IN THE SPIRIT AND POWER OF ELIJAH, TO TURN THE HEARTS OF THE PARENTS TO THEIR CHILDREN AND THE DISOBEDIENT TO THE WISDOM OF THE RIGHTEOUS—TO MAKE READY A PEOPLE PREPARED FOR THE LORD.”

— Luke 1:5-17

---

When I was a little girl, my mom told me two Bible stories with a certain special reverence; the story of Hannah, and the passage above about Elizabeth. My mom felt very close to these women. She’d been married for 10 years and given up on children before I was conceived. She spoke of the anguish of being a young pastor’s wife in a church community seemingly filled with women having babies. She spoke of Mother’s Days when she left the worship center in tears after all the mothers stood up and received roses and honor while she received none. She spoke of the treasured moments when other women reached out their hearts in sympathy. 

I heard it with my head, but until this year I didn’t see anything similar between us. After all, I’m not trying to get pregnant. I’m not married. But here, in my 31st year, still not having found a husband, I understand more than before the ache that comes into your arms when you think how a baby belongs there. The emptiness of a home kept only for yourself, and not a family. The loneliness of a dinner for one, eaten in front of a Netflix series. I’ve cycled through all the layers of emotion you might expect: anger with God, deep sadness and grief, occasional relief when I hear of a family struggling and give thanks for the ease of a life lived alone. But as I sit writing this, in the living room of a home where I’m babysitting, slumbering little ones just down the hall, there is one thing I pray I may always keep. And that is hope. Though the online dating scene is confusing and frustrating, and the single men I know seem not to notice I exist, I still have hope. Though it hurts and heals to hold another woman’s child, I still have hope.

In fact, I realized this week that I can have hope that changing diapers in the church nursery is preparing me to change my own babies. I can hope that enforcing bedtime tonight is preparing my heart to be firm with my own children. I can hope that the longing I feel for a husband and child can be channeled into a longing for my marriage and children to be transformed by the gospel.

I was struck again in reading about Elizabeth’s baby, John. How the main purpose of his life was to “make ready for the Lord a prepared people.” That seems to be what Jesus does over and over. Prepare hearts for present service and future glory. And, most of all, I know that whether I find a husband or not, all this pain and longing is good because it is preparing my heart for His coming Kingdom.

And so, as I read this advent passage about a man who had so deeply given up hope that he could not even believe the words of an angel, and a woman who waited alone at home for his return, and the many long years they longed without hope, I feel great comfort. When I lose all hope, God can still move. When my hope flickers and wanes, He can fan it to life again. I don’t know whether He will grant me this desire for a family of my own while we inhabit this old and sin-filled Earth. But I do know that in Him there is always hope. For He is preparing us for the New Heaven and the New Earth with new jobs to do in a creation that is no longer groaning with the weight of sin. And in that glorious day, I hope He’ll let me work in the nursery.

Reflection by
BETHANY BROWN
www.bethanyrossbrown.com

DECEMBER 21ST | WITH JOY INEXPRESSIBLE

“So I’m waiting for the King to come
galloping out of the clouds while the
angel armies sing He’s gonna gather
His people in the shadow of His wings
And I’m gonna raise my voice with the
song of the redeemed, ‘Cause all this
darkness is a small and passing thing!”
-Andrew Peterson 

The refrain of these weary days for me has been this song, rooted in my hope that the Apostle Paul’s words are as true now as the day he penned them centuries ago: 'For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us.’ (Romans 8:18). 

In recent months the idea has begun to take root that joy can grow from even the weary soil of waiting and longing. The burden of proof of joy isn’t on me to experience a particular emotion; the burden of proof of joy is on the Good King whose first Advent brought good news of great joy and whose second Advent will bring the full and final glory of sons and daughters. 

The proof and force of such joy are found in this Good King, whose birth, life, death, and resurrection mean full and lasting confidence that He is our good. He withholds no good thing from us, and it is the joy of the Lord which strengthens us for the weariness we face and enlivens us to obey along the way (Nehemiah 8:10). We don’t wait as hopeless wanderers. Every heart that belongs to Jesus joyfully prepares Him room. 

Consider the joy of the Lord to the tired shepherds, who were keeping watch over their flock by night. They were met with terror and joy in one instant, as the angelic host proclaimed the news to them: 

Fear not! I bring you good news of great joy! Unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is
Christ the Lord! 

When the shepherds, trembling or tired or fearful or excited, made their way to Bethlehem and found that it was true? They went away rejoicing. 

Consider the joy of the Lord to the magi - those wise kings who tracked the constellations and prophecies. They followed the unusual star across deserts and towns, in search of what they 

believed would be incarnate deity. When they finally made it to where Joseph and Mary, we read in Matthew: 

And behold, the star that they had seen when it rose went before them until it came to rest over the
place where the child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy. 

The constant in these experiences of joy was that God’s word had proven true. The shepherds, the wise men, and we ourselves have experienced joy as strength and rest for weariness because what God has said was TRUE and they/we have seen the hand of God move to fulfill His promises. 

Here is where we may rest this Christmas: joy is a good gift of our Father who loves us. We don’t wait like the Israelites, with the same wondering and longing for the advent of Christ, because we have seen His glory, in the Scriptures and in our days. We’ve experienced His holy consolation to our weary souls, though we do not now see Him. And because of His indwelling life, we can joyfully prepare for the coming glory because, as Peter wrote: 

Though you have not seen Him, you love Him, and though you do not see Him now, but believe in Him,
you greatly rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory... 

Reflection by
SARAH SANDEL

DECEMBER 20TH | IMPERFECT PREPARATIONS

“A VOICE OF ONE CALLING: IN THE WILDERNESS PREPARE A WAY FOR THE LORD; MAKE STRAIGHT IN THE DESERT A HIGHWAY FOR OUR GOD. EVERY VALLEY SHALL BE RAISED UP, EVERY MOUNTAIN AND HILL MADE LOW; THE ROUGH GROUND SHALL BECOME LEVEL, THE RUGGED PLACES A PLAIN. AND THE GLORY OF THE LORD WILL BE REVEALED, AND ALL PEOPLE WILL SEE IT TOGETHER.”

— Isaiah 40: 1-6

My wife and I love to host people in our homes.  The holiday season is one of our favorite times. There is always a labor of love that takes place.  There are times where people speak of this thing that we love to do as a burden. But it is not a burden in the least.  She will work to make sure that all the details are taken care of – plates, napkins, glasses and silverware. If this is to be a formal meal, the china will come out.  If the focus of the meal is conversation and fun, we will have festive napkins and plates or bowls. Serving spoons and condiments are laid out for all our guests needs to be met.  

We cook together.  We work together to try and fill the home with the smells of the season and to tickle the taste buds.  When we work to prepare a holiday meal, only we know the true amount of work that goes into preparing. We know the time spent preparing the meal, but also the home to welcome and receive guests.  We know the challenges that had to be overcome for the meal to be right. How many extra trips to the store were necessary so that everyone would enjoy the time to the fullest.

Only we know about the strained voices and stressed nerves as we focus to make it perfect and the other person might accidentally be in our way.  We know that the perfect meal is not the result of a peaceful perfect time of preparation. We know, from the beginning, that when we invite a crowd to our house to share in a meal at the holidays, the preparation is not always smooth and perfect.  

Despite all of that, preparing is my favorite part.  I savor getting up early in the morning to prepare the prime rib that is part of my wife’s family traditions.  As I prepare the meat, I remember the man who once shared his secrets with me. I think of the joy and smile that comes across Nanny’s face, as her husband’s legacy lives on in this holiday meal. And I push through the fear of making a mistake.  

As we finish the preparations the guests start to arrive, we hope that they smile as they walk in and greet one another.  The smells of the meal give them a sense and a hope of the goodness that is to come. The table settings tell them that they are special, and a place has been prepared for them at the table. The selection of drinks and condiments remind them that they are seen, special, and loved. A table for the children reminds us all about the joy of youth.  

During the holiday season as we prepare our home for guests, our hearts can be filled as we get a taste of what it means to make the kingdom tangible. We can see that as we approach Christmas, the world was not a stress-free place. We see that since there was light, God, desires to feast with us at His table. He knows our needs and our wants. He prepares a place for us, just as He prepared the world for His son’s entry. He knows that there will be challenges to make the meal perfect, but He awaits our acceptance of His invitation to the table.  

As we celebrate the arrival of Jesus, let us be thankful for the work that is preparation. I hope all can sit in awe and think about the preparation of the Creator as the journey to reuniting creator and created began. I hope that we can all be thankful for the kingdom glimpse we get during the holiday season as people who might not be close to one another gather around a table and share a meal. Let us always be thankful for the invitation to sit at the table and share in a perfect meal that no human hands could make.

Reflection by
GREG DEITZ
gsdeitz.com

DECEMBER 19th | AS GOOD AS GOLD AND BETTER

“STRENGTHEN THE FEEBLE HANDS, STEADY THE KNEES THAT GIVE WAY; SAY TO THOSE WITH FEARFUL HEARTS, “BE STRONG, DO NOT FEAR, YOUR GOD WILL COME... THEN WILL THE EYES OF THE BLIND BE OPENED AND THE EARS OF THE DEAF UNSTOPPED. THEN WILL THE LAME LEAP LIKE A DEER, AND THE MUTE TONGUE SHOUT FOR JOY.”

— Isaiah 35: 3-6

I was watching “The Muppet Christmas Carol” for the first time this holiday season when the quoted words of Tiny Tim struck me in the heart yet again.

It’s that scene where the Ghost of Christmas Present takes Ebenezer Scrooge to the Cratchits’ house on Christmas Eve and Bob (Kermit the Frog) and Tiny Tim have just gotten home from the Christmas Eve service.  Mrs. Cratchit, played by Miss Piggy (of course), asks Bob how Tiny Tim did at the service and Bob replies, “As good as gold and better.”

I had to dig out my copy of A Christmas Carol to find the exact words because I wanted to remember them forever.

Bob Cratchit continues, “Somehow he gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard.  He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day the one who made lame beggars walk, and blind men see.”

I teared up again, like I do just about every single time I watch that scene.

I started thinking. I’m not much like Tiny Tim.

I mean, I’m a grown-up female and I don’t have any visible disabilities.  

But I am often in a lot of pain that’s not always readily apparent to the casual observer.

Is there a way my pain can bring attention to the One “who made lame beggars walk, and blind men see?”

My entire life should be focused in that direction.  Why wouldn’t my pain be a part of that?

Whether the pain stays or goes, may I give God the glory.

Reflection by
CHALAINA KROLL

DECEMBER 18TH | BAPTISM

“THE PEOPLE WERE WAITING EXPECTANTLY AND WERE ALL WONDERING IN THEIR HEARTS IF JOHN MIGHT POSSIBLY BE THE MESSIAH. JOHN ANSWERED THEM ALL, ‘I BAPTIZE YOU WITH WATER FOR REPENTANCE, BUT AFTER ME COMES ONE WHO IS MORE POWERFUL THAN I, WHOSE SANDALS I AM NOT WORTHY TO CARRY. HE WILL BAPTIZE YOU WITH THE HOLY SPIRIT AND FIRE.’”

— Matthew 3:11-12

What did I know of the cosmic dance I was joining?
What did a mere child have to offer the armies of the High King?
What did those who brought me to the water and Spirit fully know?
And what would I think of who I’ve become since those long years ago?

I still don’t comprehend the movements of the divine.
I still don’t hold the courage to fight these battles of mine.
I still don’t know as I assume all those who went before me knew.
And I still can’t imagine to what I am still being converted into.

Yet He has made for me a way through failed steps, pain and strife!
Yet He has vanquished my death and has brought me new life!
Yet He knows all the holy mystery that I cannot see!
And He knows the love and the light that He is creating me to be!

Poem and artwork by
ADAM R. NETTESHEIM
”Baptism” - Digital Illustration.