Listen To Article
Come amid the salt-crusted cars lined up at the light,
amid the clamor and bustle of commerce,
the grocery store cash drawer rings,
the have-a-nice-days. Come for the father
leading three little girls in puffy coats,
chattering and jostling to push the cart,
for the woman shivering at the intersection,
holding a homeless sign, God bless.
Come where we are caught in the crazy,
and looking the other way.
Come for the woman hooked to a chemo IV,
and for the friend knitting beside her,
looping strength with strength, row after row.
Come amid the smells of the healing
and the dying, to the NICU, the Alzheimer’s wing,
to bodies beloved or abandoned, eyes fading,
to the mother, exhausted, her children bathed
and in bed, another shift tomorrow, so much to do.
Come where we reach the end of our strength,
in courageous hope or helpless sighing.
Come in the contentment and the quiet
to the boy safe in bed, between waking and sleep,
his parents’ low voices in the hall, all is well,
to the family gathering at table, together
after long months apart, folding hands for prayer.
Come in the choir’s unison intake of breath
before their voices sound, in the violinist’s
poise of bow on the string. Come to the grandpa
settling on the sofa, calling his little dog to his lap.
Come where we are open and waiting.
Come to the young woman between semesters,
hiking a winter trail, listening for chattering jays
as her future shifts shapes in her mind.
Come to all our in-betweens,
slipping by stealth into this weary world.
Come before the bitter word is spoken,
come between asthmatic breaths.
Come between power and weakness,
between shattered and blessed.
Come as angels sing glory down between heaven and earth,
as curious shepherds hurry from hillside to manger,
to touch the infant’s head, cupped between
his mother’s hand and her warm breast.
Thank you, Debra. I have my prayer for Christmas around the dinner table (duly and laudably attributed to you, the inspired author).
Exactly my first thought too, that we now have a prayer to read at the table tomorrow. I particularly love the betweening.
Lovely, dark and deep, Debra. With gratitude across the miles.
Thank you Deb!!! Will read it as our Christmas prayer with Aunt Jeanne and Karen’s family!
Thank you, friends. I admit that I thought exactly of that–a prayer around the dinner table candles, surrounded by cold darkness outside. I also admit that I wrote this in a fog of miserable sinus pain and congestion, so I really should have written something about the Lord coming amid the kleenex wads and Dayquil!
Thank you, Deb, for that moving prayer that brings closer the meaning of His coming!
Ooooooo. So wonderful. Thank you.
Lovely! Thank you.
Absolutely gorgeous and powerful.
Yes, Amen, and thank you!
Thank you so much, it touched my heart as I was just discharged from Butterworth Christmas Eve. Every word embodied so much of what is needed to lift the spirits of God’s children in this Christmas Season. Come Lord Jesus, be our guest at this wonderful Christmas fest. Thank you again!
Beautiful. Thank you.