A Prayer for Advent
Oh Come, Oh Come Emmanuel!
I mourn in lowly exile here:
Waiting for what?
Waiting on what?
What is this anxiety?
That someone will die.
Or someone will get sick.
Or someone will leave.
Or someone will end something.
Or things will fall apart.
Or it all will fall apart.
Or it all has fallen apart.
Or it all stays fallen apart.
Oh Come, Oh Come Emmanuel!
I mourn in lowly exile here:
I’m scared of what is.
I’m scared of what happened.
I’m scared of how much worse it will get.
I’m scared to live the rest of my days
Waiting for the next bad thing
Waiting for the next wave of suffering
Waiting for the next layer of depravity to fall
Waiting to see if this time it will crush me
Oh Come, Oh Come Emmanuel!
I mourn in lowly exile here:
I live in fear
The absence of knowing
The absence of understanding
The absence of influence
I feel unsafe all the time
I feel unrested all the time
I feel insecure all the time
My body feels weary
My spirit is
Battered.
Bloodied.
Broken.
Oh Come, Oh Come Emmanuel!
I mourn in lowly exile here:
If only there were answers!
But will I find any?
Will they even help?
What will help?
Certainty?
Money?
Power?
What will starve my agony?
Knowledge?
Medicine?
Therapy?
Where are you, God?!
I am in exile here!
I mourn for everything I’ve lost!
I mourn for everything that is!
I mourn for the pain that will be!
Stop.
Quiet.
Listen.
Listen to your breath.
Listen to your heartbeat.
Listen to the low hum of the world around you.
Listen to the sound of winter.
Does it feel quiet and lonely?
Does it feel wild and windbeaten?
Does it feel cold and brittle?
Does it feel harsh and hostile?
Does it feel peaceful?
Does it feel bright?
Does it feel cozy?
Does it feel sparkly?
Does it feel magical?
This world is not one thing.
It’s both-and
The wilds of winter will beat on your soul
But the sight of frozen beauty is unmatched
Bleak and cold, gray and beige
Red and green, pink and cream
The outside is harsh on the senses
But inside it smells like mulled wine and evergreen
A simple god would make a simple world
A small god would make a small world
A hyper-focused god wouldn’t put variety in the details
A vengeful god would allow the darkness to linger
But you are a God of thought and imagination
Of everything and the beyond
Of infinity plus one
Of And and Or and Both and All
I know that.
You have put your word on my heart.
Help me find it.
You have put answers in my soul.
Help me trust it.
You have put your spirit in my spirit.
Help me feel it.
Oh Come, Oh Come Emmanuel
Amen
By Tricia Gaastra & Alyssa Bergsma, written for Walker Harbor Church, Walker, MI
