Pressing into the waiting.
Making it comfortable with holly and hope.
Flooding our plans with positive expectation.
Pushing back the possibility - that this time he might not come.
What if the manger were to lie empty
Mary join the ranks of the heartbroken. The stunned
and shunned. The crossed by to the other side.
New life stopped in all its terrifying fragility.
The world left saviour-less,
Un-moored from its calendar axis.
What would we pivot on then?
Where would we look to for a moment of eternal change?
But that was not her fate.
After her wait she had life.
Her horror and loss was to come.
The embalming myrrh sitting in the back of the cupboard like a needle in her soul.
But for now we can bask in hope.
Hold our hands out to it like a warm fire.
We can squeeze into the stable.
Nothing for now, quiet now. still empty, still waiting.
Molly (age 12): I really like this verse as it reminds us of God’s promises, but that it’s ok that God isn’t always quick to respond - we can wait and give him time. This is a peaceful and relaxing thought and the painting is something you can meditate on, lose yourself in - a peaceful place.
Charlotte: I wrote this poem as a meditation on the waiting of Advent in the light of the fragility of life, the miracle of any new birth and especially that of Jesus.