Advent | A Lament

by Elouise

Bleak-Winter1

Eyes ache
Ears miss birdsong
Body tires of
Indoor exercise
Confining
Repetitive
Winter

Tell me, Winter
Why so sparse
So barren
Even potted plants
Grow tiresome
Droop
Fade

I want to sleep
But cannot
What then of night
Does it offer
Solace
Interest
Beauty

Stars and moon hide
Behind thick clouds
Cold air chills bones
Knocks on joints
Drives healing moisture
From hands

Psalmists lament
So do I
I lament the absence of
Spring Summer and Fall
The absence of Your
visible unmerited blessings

Is it the weather?

Heavy
Body mind and spirit
Empty
Joyless
Relieved only
By music that
Moves me
From this
Dreary sameness

* * *

If the glory of Advent is God’s response to our deep distress, I’m in deep distress. We careen along a path toward who-knows-what. I see reminders of this when I read or listen to the news. Other ages had their share of unrelenting distress headlines. This isn’t new. It is, however, painfully visible.

All the more reason to stay centered in Advent. Ironically, Advent comes “in the bleak mid-winter,” not in the glorious burst of spring. I’m glad it comes in bleak mid-winter. In spring I’m too full of myself and my own intoxication with nature to appreciate what happened at Christmas.

The coming of Messiah wasn’t part of the cycle of nature. It was a break-in moment, heart-stopping and threatening. Not sweet and docile, like a shrinking violet.

I’m looking for a break-in. How about you?

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 18 December 2015
Photo credit: David Byrne at http://www.85mm.co.uk
“Bleak Winter,” Scotland