O come, Thou Dayspring, come and cheer 

Our spirits by Thine advent here; 

Disperse the gloomy clouds of night, 

And death’s dark shadows put to flight. 

(Refrain)

  O come, Thou Wisdom from on high, 

And order all things, far and nigh; 

To us the path of knowledge show, 

And cause us in her ways to go. 

(Refrain)

 O come, Desire of nations, bind 

All peoples in one heart and mind; 

Bid envy, strife, and quarrels cease; 

Fill the whole world with heaven’s peace. 

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

O Come O Come Emmanuel

Watching my son take his breathing treatment this morning, I thought about how the nebulizer was never on my list as something I would grab if we had to quickly flee our home. I don’t think about those things much at all, but occasionally I think about it. He doesn’t often need it, but when he does, it makes such a difference. I thought about children all over the world who need simple at-home medical care and can’t get it.

I thought the same sort of thing after I left my eye doctor appointment with fresh contacts. If I were to be in some kind of situation where I couldn’t get more contacts, I’d be stuck with the glasses that weigh too heavy on my nose bridge after a while and give me a headache. And if they broke, don’t ask me to read street signs or recognize anyone from a distance or drive at night in the rain over 20 mph. I think about adults all over the world who need something that is so common and basic but do without because it is the absolute least of their worries.

These realities seem so far from my own, and also, so close. I’m not sure who first taught me to put myself in another’s shoes, who first taught me to care about people other than myself, but I know I grew up with the concept every where I turned: Sunday school, Girl Scouts, the Little House on the Prairie books my mom read me, shows on PBS, songs I sung in Children’s choir, Reba’s “Fancy” and that Everlast song. “Then you really might know what’s it’s like…“

I consider what my husband and I wouldn’t do for our children to have their needs met. What rules would we bend, what boundaries would we cross if pressed? If we did it the “right way” and it got us no where. If we prayed and exhausted every resource…

And more than my husband and I, I think of what our parents would do for their grandchildren. If pressed and desperate, there is no one my mother-in-law would not bulldoze over, there is no entity my father would not destroy, there is no curse my mother would withhold, there is no sign of rules and regulations my father-in-law would not outright ignore if it meant their grandchildren would get what they need. There is no border they would not cross for their grandchildren. I know this. I have had to reel them in hundreds of times over the years. And that’s just so they don’t get us kicked out of schools, stores, and ballgames.

But truly, who’s to say where following the Spirit will take us? Holy vision is not bound by earthly constraints. Jesus broke laws that had to be broken. His agenda was disruptive and inconvenient and uncomfortable and against earthly law and tradition. And he came as our guide. But first, he came lowly. The Christmas story is not about might. It is about smallness, humility, faith. It is part of the setting right of things so off-kilter. For generations, people watched for this. We still do. It is about light in darkness. And lately, we seem to be awash in darkness.

There shall a star from Jacob come forth and a Sceptre from Israel rise up and dash into pieces princes and nations.

How brightly beams the morning star!
With sudden radiance from afar
With light and comfort glowing!
Thy Word, Jesus, inly feeds us,
Rightly leads us,
Life bestowing.
Praise, oh praise such love o’erflowing.

There Shall a Star From Jacob Come Forth

We live in a world where people have spent so long grabbing what they want and justifying the what it costs others that it is devolving into a world where we rip from one another what we need because we can’t trust anyone else to care.

Desperate people make desperate choices.

No one is well until we all are well, no one is free until we all are free, no one is safe until we all are safe. This has always been true.

This Advent, this Christmas season, I find myself doused with grief and despair often while I claw for joy, hope, and peace. While I turn my eyes to a glimmer in the darkness – whether it is the darkness of my own thoughts or of the world around me, I know I’m not alone. I know it’s a centuries old practice – this clawing. I just want to be sure I’m clawing at heaven and nothing else, no one else.

Truly He taught us to love one another;

His law is love and His gospel is peace.

Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother;

And in His name all oppression shall cease.

O Holy Night

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