Today I admired the waves of wind-swept rain at midnight…and wondered why in the world I was still out on the roads at that hour. I wish that there was a better chance of snow, but I honestly prefer to drive in rain, so I appreciate the wetter-water precipitation.
It reminds me of a song…
This speaks such beauty of Christ’s humility…coming with the fanfare of angels, but to the simple people of the world.
Luke 1:57-66 speaks of John the Baptist’s birth to Zachariah and Elizabeth, who were overjoyed. I know I have written on this story before, but I gained new insight from a book called God Is In The Manger by Dietrich Bonhoeffer. On Day 2 of the Advent season he speaks of waiting as an art.
“Those who do not know how it feels to struggle anxiously with the deepest questions of life, of their life, and to patiently look forward with anticipation until the truth is revealed, cannot even dream of the splendor of the moment in which clarity is illuminated for them. And for those who do not want to win the friendship and love of another person – who do not expectantly open up their soul to the soul of the other person, until friendship and love come, until they make their entrance – for such people the deepest blessing of the one life of two intertwined souls will remain forever hidden. For the greatest, most profound, tenderest things in the world, we must wait” (pg 4).
To wait for a child. For direction. For a world freed from pain and evil. We have hope, and on this hope we wait.
God, thank You for fulfilled promises. Thank You that You make good promises, ones we can point to again and again through the years and know that You will fulfill them. God, thank You for Your humble love. And please help me to learn to wait, to trust, to admit that I do not understand, and that is okay. I am so blessed. Thanks for the rain, too. Amen.