A hard time we’ve had of it:
March to December.
Beleaguered by rampant plague,
distracted leadership, lies
and unbelief, trust dying on the airwaves.
We’ve endured shortages, closings
and curtailments, meeting outdoors,
keeping our distance, learning to wash,
to sanitize, to wear our masks. We know
(more than we ever wanted to)
about ventilators and hospital beds
and refrigerated -truck morgues,
positivity rates and grim statistics:
graphs full of spikes that never seem to flatten,
but continue to eternity.
We are not counting fires and floods,
riots, and hurricanes, political machinations,
storms and accusations,
marchers and violence (by and toward police),
the signs and shouts and terrors
that prowl the edges of our dreams.
We are frightened.
A hard time, a hard year
of struggling through, of prayer and despair,
of impatience and boredom, of missing friends and family,
of sickness and death and apprehension,
of worry and fear and anxiety
that brings us at last
to Christmas.
“Peace on earth, goodwill to men”
Can there ever be peace again?
Where is the joy? The goodwill?
Can we come together?
At least to pray, at least
to worship the One
who saw us as we are, and said, “Yes”...
Who saw us as salvageable,
who determined He would save us.
We survey our world, and it is hard to see
why He might think us worth the effort--
And yet, He comes. Soon, He comes...
Prince of peace, Lord of Hope,
God of Forgiveness...whether we
deserve it or not, He comes.
His time is here. His time is now.
And so is ours. To forgive. To hope. To love.
Emmanuel. God with us.
Come let us adore Him.
