“To touch a dying world with new-made hands, and make these rags of time our swaddling bands.” – Malcolm Guite
Pain is No Stranger – Christmas Eve Devotion
Well, we made it. Almost. Ha! It’s Christmas Eve and we’re busy doing all the things with all the people with all the complexities and joys and exhaustion that it brings.
Oh, the wonder of it all.
We have a little tradition in our house. It’s only a few years old, but it’s one that we’ll hold onto. Tonight we’ll gather around the second-hand table we bought from a family two hours up the road, we’ll bring all our stories to it, and we'll sit with each other. We'll choose to bear witness to the story of the Israelites as it represents the deep pains that are tearing our world apart. We’ll take a moment and be silent for the war-torn, for refugees and those enslaved and trafficked. We’ll bear witness to those who have been abused and hurt; those who are under the boot of empire; for those who have been taken advantage of and then called a liar; for those with the courage to speak truth to power despite the cost; for our beautiful earth being plundered and tortured; for the sick and the lonely, the frustrated and the heartbroken… and the pain that resides with our own selves.
Because while Christmas is beautiful and joyous and fun, for some, it’s also full of pain and heartache and disconnection. And we want to acknowledge and honor that at our table, with our children, with each other.
And then we’ll light a candle knowing that the birth of Jesus shows us that pain is no stranger to hope and light.
O Emmanuel
By Malcolm Guite
(from his book, Waiting on The Word.)
“O come, O come, and be our God-with-us
O long-sought With-ness for a world without,
O secret seed, O hidden spring of light.
Come to us Wisdom, come unspoken Name,
Come Root, and Key, and King, and holy Flame.
O quickened little wick so tightly curled,
Be folded with us into time and place,
Unfold for us the mystery of grace
And make a womb of all this wounded world.
O heart of heaven beating in the earth,
O tiny hope within our hopelessness
Come to be born, to bear us to our birth,
To touch a dying world with new-made hands
And make these rags of time our swaddling bands.”
Written by Liz Milani
(And after lighting the candle… our next tradition is this: we smash open our gingerbread house and eat as much as we can. I’m telling you this so you don’t think we’re too somber and serious. Be safe, have hope, may you find joy. L xo).
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