first advent candle lit
amaryllis and paperwhites grow
cozy sweater wrapped
rain playing on the skylight
raspberries and cream
simmering turkey soup
the first week of advent
the quiet alone came on tuesday after a 10 hour day that began with an unplanned journey over the river to pick her up, drive back over the river, down the highway, through the neighborhood where men and women sleep under over passes and windows are boarded up, graffiti covering buildings ~ the place where cold and wet to the bones is a reality ~ not a news story.
oh, how to reconcile two sides of a river?
always, we begin again. rule of st benedict
a make-shift advent wreath, the first candle lit. gentle music. deep breaths.
“prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.” luke 3:4
reading scripture, and yes, we appropriately started out of sequence, we were on the path. our direction was clear. “prepared” cards were ready. listening, falling into our hearts, being present.
images speak where she has no words. she is lost in the cutting and creating, the glueing and placement. she knows. writing words that are meaningful, she struggles to find letters and form but on a deeper level she does not struggle to make sense of the movement of God’s presence.
she is present in the “hollow of my heart” Jan Richardson
she is in the sorrow, in her loss ~ and somehow, from somewhere, the simple words spill from her 84 year old lips, “a stroke is a blessing.”
she is more present, yet more distant
she is more childlike, yet more deep and complex
she wants more, yet less
ongoing change ~ preparation for transformation
if we can stay present and aware