(no subject)
We're out of coffee, so I'm drinking Earl Grey. It's not bad. It's not terrific, either - I'm not sure if Earl Grey is one of those teas you're supposed to drink with milk, but I really really love it with cream and a little bit of sugar. Alas - also out of cream.
I read the blog of an old friend of ours this morning, and knew a twinge of jealousy as he wrote about Seminary. Maybe I'll go, when I'm old.
These have been good weeks. I've entered into the advent of Christmas as in other years - joyful, anticipating, in awe. Last year, I missed it, somehow, and it saddened me; Christmas has long been the highlight of the Christian year for me (even though I know it should be Easter, but I'm working on it) although I won't rehash my crazy love for the Incarnation until I have something freshly interesting to say about it. Point: I'm particularly grateful this year.
From my already favorite gospel (sharing the spot with Matthew) John speaks to me this season through the imagery of light and dark:
"In Him was life, and the life was the Light of men. The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it....There was the true Light which, coming into the world, enlightens every man."
Late September, I stood at the edge of a wild field that was beginning to die, and my heart plummeted as the coming seasonal darkness opened up before me. I nearly doubled over in sorrow, and out of my desperation, I cried out to God as one dying of thirst would for water - - be the light in my darkness. turn my despair into joy. let me learn to love the cold and dark for who You are in their midst. teach me what it is to be conformed to Jesus and to be empowered by His Spirit inside the winter. Let me live in the light of Your Kingdom as it emerges from a darkened world. may those around me know the warmth of Your love as I am consumed by the heat of Your glory. as I move into a season during which I feel empty and powerless, may I surrender to Your filling and strength. instead of a half-life, let me die wholly to myself - thus being relieved of the burden of survival.
There was something in the praying of this that gave me hope - something about articulating these needs and desires that gave me an answer to watch for. It was more powerful than simply asking "please help me through the winter." I felt as though He guided me in the prayer, showing me what was possible, what He is willing and able to do. But in the end - to also trust in Who He Is, and not merely what He does.
I read the blog of an old friend of ours this morning, and knew a twinge of jealousy as he wrote about Seminary. Maybe I'll go, when I'm old.
These have been good weeks. I've entered into the advent of Christmas as in other years - joyful, anticipating, in awe. Last year, I missed it, somehow, and it saddened me; Christmas has long been the highlight of the Christian year for me (even though I know it should be Easter, but I'm working on it) although I won't rehash my crazy love for the Incarnation until I have something freshly interesting to say about it. Point: I'm particularly grateful this year.
From my already favorite gospel (sharing the spot with Matthew) John speaks to me this season through the imagery of light and dark:
"In Him was life, and the life was the Light of men. The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it....There was the true Light which, coming into the world, enlightens every man."
Late September, I stood at the edge of a wild field that was beginning to die, and my heart plummeted as the coming seasonal darkness opened up before me. I nearly doubled over in sorrow, and out of my desperation, I cried out to God as one dying of thirst would for water - - be the light in my darkness. turn my despair into joy. let me learn to love the cold and dark for who You are in their midst. teach me what it is to be conformed to Jesus and to be empowered by His Spirit inside the winter. Let me live in the light of Your Kingdom as it emerges from a darkened world. may those around me know the warmth of Your love as I am consumed by the heat of Your glory. as I move into a season during which I feel empty and powerless, may I surrender to Your filling and strength. instead of a half-life, let me die wholly to myself - thus being relieved of the burden of survival.
There was something in the praying of this that gave me hope - something about articulating these needs and desires that gave me an answer to watch for. It was more powerful than simply asking "please help me through the winter." I felt as though He guided me in the prayer, showing me what was possible, what He is willing and able to do. But in the end - to also trust in Who He Is, and not merely what He does.