• advent journal: kindling

    by  • December 22, 2015 • advent journal, grace, hope, love, peace, poetry • 2 Comments

    I wonder what the shepherds did
    the year after the angels came,
    or how the Magi went about
    their business when they got back home.
    I wonder if the innkeeper woke
    in the middle of the night and
    sat in the barn for no reason.

    How did they keep the story fresh—
    Did they go back hoping for a
    return engagement of wonder,
    or did they turn that one special
    night into an ornament that
    hung in quietly in their hearts
    and lost its shine over the years?

    My heart has wandered into new
    fields covered by different skies;
    I’m hardly settled from travel
    enough to look for the manger.
    Yet the days have been accomplished,
    and I’m out hoping to hear angels . . .
    instead I am met by these words:

    Love will not wait till I’m ready;
    grace doesn’t come to evict grief;
    hope runs like a hound for my heart;
    peace disquiets as it comforts.
    I gather my sorrows like sheep,
    stack up the words like wood for fire,
    and strike the match of all that matters.



    Blogging since December 2005


    2 Responses to advent journal: kindling

    1. Diane Peterson
      December 23, 2015 at 7:19 am

      “May you be at peace, may your heart remain open…”
      Thank you for the words that came last night.


    2. kenny wood
      December 24, 2015 at 10:29 am


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