I was going to tell you about my experience giving out loaves of bread to my neighbours – a new Advent tradition I wanted to start with my family — but I just haven’t had the time. My parents butchered their old cow on Monday, and I spent all of yesterday helping them sell the 250 lbs of surplus ground beef, before helping shape 300 hamburger patties for the freezer.
It’s been a beefy couple of days.
Oh well. I will tell you that the experience (giving gifts of bread, that is) was rather awkward and unpleasant. I’m terrible at interacting with strangers. I felt like more of a nuisance than a bringer of good things. (“Hi . . . sorry to bother you . . . we’re the neighbours from over there; I just wanted to give you some bread . . . It’s a Christmas thing . . .”). Three out of five doors were answered by shirtless men. But I’m still glad I did it. I’m glad I worked up the courage to knock on my neighbours’ doors and see them face to face for the first time. It was a step in the right direction.
* * *
The news of the recent shooting in Connecticut has affected me like no other tragedy before. I just cannot fathom a greater horror than what happened there. All I can do is weep and pray. The world feels so dark right now. Where are you, Lord?
The prayer that keeps coming to my lips is, Come quickly, Lord.
Over and over again: Lord, come quickly. We need you.
Which I guess is fitting for the Advent season. For Christians, these weeks are meant to be spent in anticipation: we celebrate Jesus’ first coming, while eagerly waiting for his return.
Right now, the emphasis is on the latter for me. Never before have a longed so urgently for his return.
Mend this broken world. Come and pour your healing. Put an end to evil. Redeem us, Lord. Redeem this ugly, fallen race.
I learned this past Sunday that the Aramaic word for this prayer is “Maranatha”: Come, Oh Lord.
This is my prayer for the remainder of the Advent season.
Maranatha.
Maranatha.
* * *
I won’t be blogging again until after the holidays. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas, full of love and peace. I don’t really know most of you, but I love you all. Blessings.
That’s a beautiful word. And, in your awkward giving of bread to your shirtless neighbour dude, you’ve embodied the word.
Merry Christmas to you and your family! It’s such an odd and interesting thing to take a peek into someone’s life, but it’s been a wonderful learning experience for me and an opportunity to be Blessed and grow my own faith. The events in CT (and elsewhere) are SO heartbreaking, but a sure reminder that these dialogues (and prayers) are needed as ever in this Ball of Confusion. May you be Blessed with Peace and Love this Holy-day. :^)
Oh my goodness. I admire your bravery. When I have contemplated sharing food gifts with my neighbors, I never think of doing more than abandoning cookies on their front porches. And I’ve never even done that much. :-/
Maranatha, amen.
Merry Christmas to you and yours, Kathleen! Love to you, blog-friend. :-)
Maranatha has long been one of my favorite words/prayers. Such a beautiful sounding word and full of deep meaning.
I remember my dad telling me when I was little and something bad had happened that until Jesus comes back, the world will only become darker and more evil and I couldn’t understand that because I knew so many ‘good’ people. Now that I’m not a sheltered little girl though, I can see how right my dad was and I honestly have no idea how people who don’t personally know the Lord as their Savior cope with things like the Sandy Hook shooting. I do have the Lord to go to and it’s still confusing and sad to me.
I wish a very joyous and Spirit-filled Christmas to you and your family!
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Well done for being brave and giving away the bread! I loved the idea, and I love even more that you stepped out of your comfort zone and crossed a line to give it away. Step by step… :)
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