Readings: Psalm 113; Genesis 30:1-24; Romans 8:18-30

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. Romans 8:26-27, NRSV

Lord, it’s just a few days until I arrive at the manger, and I’m lost. I can’t find the words to pray, and I’m losing my way in the darkness of night. It’s all I can do to put one foot in front of the other. All I can do is trust the you will be with me, guiding my feet, guarding my spirit, giving me words.

Until I kneel beside you in Bethlehem, I will say Amen and Amen.

Readings: Psalm 113; Genesis 30:1-24; Colossians 1:39-45

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers – all things have been created through him and for him. He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross. Colossians 1:39-45, NRSV

It’s tempting to divide up the various parts of reality, but it’s a false division; the God of Abraham and Sarah created the world and called people to act with justice and compassion. God is intimately concerned with all of creation, and God-with-us isn’t limited to the years Jesus walked on the earth. There isn’t a single atom that exists in separation from God, nor a single person.

When my own limitations and lack of love move me to place anything outside God’s loving reach, I am reminded of the truth: all things hold together, not just some.

When I feel outside God’s loving reach, I’ll remember it as well.

Readings: Micah 5:2-5a; Luke 1:46b-55; Hebrews 10:5-10; Luke 1:39-45

In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.” Luke 1:39-45, NRSV

“Why has this happened to me?” It’s a rare thing when these words are said with joy. Even rarer the recognition of God’s chosen in the form of a young woman. But Elizabeth was a rare one.

Perhaps being pregnant in her later years brought together two spiritual gifts: wisdom’s clarity of vision and a youthful trust in the newness of life.

Readings: Psalm 80:1-7; Isaiah 66:7-11; Luke 13:31-35

At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to him, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” He said to them, “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’ Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.'” Luke 13:31-35, NRSV

When power and wealth become ends to achieve rather than means to love God and neighbor as well as self, spiritual blindness sets in and prophets arise with the corrective lenses that no one wants. And so the blind, lost in the dark, strike them down. The blind retain their possessions and their blindness.

Jesus doesn’t come to punish the blind, but to gather them together in love. He knows they won’t be gathered, and he knows his life is forfeit because of it. So why not walk away?

Because no good mother (hen) walks away from a child in need.

Readings: Psalm 80:1-7; Isaiah 42:10-18; Hebrews 10:32-39

But recall those earlier days when, after you had been enlightened, you endured a hard struggle with sufferings, sometimes being publicly exposed to abuse and persecution, and sometimes being partners with those so treated. For you had compassion for those who were in prison, and you cheerfully accepted the plundering of your possessions, knowing that you yourselves possessed something better and more lasting. Do not, therefore, abandon that confidence of yours; it brings a reward. For you need endurance, so that when you have done the will of God, you may receive what was promised. For yet “in a very little while, the one who is coming will come and will not delay; but my righteous one will live by faith. My soul takes no pleasure in anyone who shrinks back.” But we are not among those who string back and so are lost, but among those who have faith and so are saved. Hebrews 10:32-39, NRSV

Many years back, I lost out on a job because of my faith. It’s the only time it ever happened, and it didn’t cause me more than a momentary monetary setback. I’d hardly call that persecution or abuse. Unfair, yes, but that’s not the same thing. These words don’t apply to my circumstance, and I’d be telling tales if I said otherwise. But this passage does bring up questions:

For whose benefit would I cheerfully lose my possessions?

Do I value the blessings of faith more than what I earn or own?

In times of trouble, will I be among those who shrink back rather than endure?

Perhaps such questions are the reason for this part of the Lord’s Prayer:

Save us from the time of trial.

Readings: Isaiah 11:1-9; Numbers 16:20-35; Acts 28:23-31

But they fell on their faces... Numbers 16:22

Then a shoot will spring..and a branch…will bear fruit. Isaiah 11:1

For this people’s heart has grown dull, and their ears are hard of hearing, and they have shut their eyes; so that they might not look with their eyes, and listen with their ears, and understand with their heart and turn – and I would heal them. Acts 28:27

Growing up in a home ruled by the addictions of the resident adults, I learned early on it was critical to be hypervigilant. It was a survival skill. I kept that ability in my toolbox, and it helped me as a teacher; I could scan the room and intuit which of my students were feeling what. Other skills I developed during those dysfunctional years were to be responsible way beyond what was appropriate for my age; to constantly anticipate and serve the needs of others; and to mask the shame of our family situation by presenting myself as the perfectionistic overachiever I was. Again, these behaviors had positive effects in many situations. However, in 2020, after 53 years of intense striving in both work and personal life, I crashed. I fell on my face.

Thus began what I called my Year to Find Out (Thank you, Cat Stevens, for inspiring the name). I physically and consciously withdrew from the world – and not just because it was required by Covid – moving into a small casita in the New Mexico desert. I lived alone for six months.

The first part of my being to revive after years of abuse was my body. I studied nutrition and began applying it in my food choices. I exercised – another heretofore unknown activity (or at least an inconsistent practice) in my life.

Next came spiritual re-connection. My main ally in this endeavor was Nature. My days were bookended by admiring sunrises and sunsets; for the first time in my life, I paid close attention to the seasons and phases of the moon. Desert critters were often my only companions, and I would go for weeks without seeing or interacting with humans in person. The sky, stars, and most of all the mountains re-ignited my desire to pray and then listen.

Later in the year, I resumed living back in community with others. Then began psychological healing. With the help of a skilled therapist and EMDR trauma therapy, I delved into deep buckets of past memories, recognizing their impact, processing emotions I couldn’t feel at the time of their intense happening, and ultimately letting them go with love and understanding. Symbolically, I could feel shots springing and branches bearing fruit in my soul.

As an introvert who had always denied her need to refuel, I had plenty of social and emotional healing work to do during this significant year. As the pandemic would allow, I reconnected with family and friends. I traveled. Much to my surprise, I even joined a group of retired teachers and enjoyed sharing with them monthly. Before, it was all I could do to engage at work and with my family, then sleep to recover from all that “peopling.”

Big shifts were underway in every way during the Year to Find Out. I was seeing and hearing and understanding with my heart.

Having received the grace of healing, I enter this coming year with the hope that I will be able to maintain the practices that got me to where I now am, that I will humbly continue to surrender to each presenting moment without expectation or judgement; that the gifts of wisdom I was given during the Year to Find Out will stay infused in my being and will provide me with opportunities to minister to others in healthful, not compulsive, ways. To that end, I find this brief lesson inspiring:

https://www.upworthy.com/glass-of-water-lesson-about-stress

What I now understand with my heart is that God heals us if we open ourselves to healing and commit to the journey. I am going to try daily to put the glass down, to prevent more burdens from entering long-term – put the glass down and let it sit there. It doesn’t need my company.

Offered by Jill Fredrickson, to light our path to Bethlehem.

Readings: Zephaniah 3:14020; Isaiah 12:2-6; Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 3:7-18

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Phil. 4:4-7, NRSV

I don’t want to live without peace. I don’t want to spend my soul’s energy regretting past mistakes, disregarding present blessings, and worrying about future possibilities. I want to live near God instead. Is it possible that being gentle with the lives of others opens a door into that place of peace? Could the reason it surpasses all understanding is that it’s just so simple?

Not easy, certainly. But simple.