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| photo credit here |
some mornings, to breathe in is to battle.
from that first moment of ceiling stare, of covers pulled to chin, you assess the day like an enemy enclosing, and you wonder if that chink you carry in your armor will hold.
and you pray.
this week, i woke heavy nearly every day, mumbled prayer en route to coffee pot, labored long, mumbled prayer again drowsing back toward pillow in the wee hours.
this week, i prayed using the words “fever” and “rash” about a sick little Livi (she is better now — many thanks for your prayers dear friends), and the déjà vu of that prayer sent up brought me to my knees.
brought me low, like that manger from long ago. the one strewn with hay and used for livestock. the one that kings from afar came to bow down before.
because, as the story is told,
a baby born low was raised high and higher still
on donkey, palm branches waving
on cross, cruel nails piercing
on cloud, God-call triumphant.
low made high. every miracle in the bible follows that same formula.
and when i bow low under these earthly fears and failures, when i hit my knees, humble, instead of setting my jaw, resistant … he waits there,
to raise me up.
this week, i prayed that i might really see the “holy” in the coming holiday, that i would truly understand how that God-child born here, to earth, brings hope: for that child, sweet Bane, who left earth, for heaven … and for those of us who wait here without him.
in this season of Advent, may we wake each morning – not to dread of daily pressures – but to an awareness that His coming, His birth into human skin, was and is a gift of hope that is waiting for us to unwrap it.
and i will pray — will you join me? – that Sonya and Drason might feel the peace of Mary and Joseph, two parents who also knew that their child had a purpose far beyond making the football team, landing a good job, bringing the grandkids by now and again …
oh, Father, that we would peer into that manger this Christmas
and see hope on display.
I am so glad that Livi is better!!!!!