sometimes i can hear the world breathing.
it’s in the stillness, the act of doing nothing, that it hits like blast of train whistle and the mouth of the world smells of pretzels and salt and sweat and beer and coffee and tired and fast food,
like the exhaust of our veggie car
an exhausted world. it hits me at our bible study as we’re huddled round everyone trying to un-hurry hearts for an hour to forget about suzy’s cold and jimmy’s grades and to know Him, by stilling.
but then it’s rush of car and home and sleep and work and rats racing and there is no time for brushing teeth just go, go, go and
mary sits expectant
and for some reason this year, i cannot wait
for Christmas
yet i must
for it’s in the waiting, the days leading up to conception, that romance happens
the wooing of a world gone weary
the roses of a suitor-God who comes in form of angel
says, behold
i love you
enough to give you life
we need this stilling, this knowing of a divine kind of romance for without it,
there would be no immaculate story, no savior in a manger, no Messiah on a cross, no Christmas worth winter
and so, i await
the coming
of God

(from the archives)