We Find Our Kneeling Places

Good morning…

She read the poem aloud. Slowly. Quietly. Prayerfully. Twice, she read the poem aloud, wondering what we noticed.

In this quiet moment, might we also do the same? Read slowly, quietly, prayerfully.

What inklings do you notice?

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In Search of Our Kneeling Places by Ann Weemes

In each heart lies a Bethlehem,
an inn where we must ultimately answer
whether there is room or not.
When we are Bethlehem-bound
we experience our own advent in his.
When we are Bethlehem-bound
we can no longer look the other way
conveniently not seeing stars
not hearing angel voices.
We can no longer excuse ourselves by busily
tending our sheep or our kingdoms.
This Advent let’s go to Bethlehem
and see this thing that the Lord has made known to us.
In the midst of shopping sprees
let’s ponder in our hearts the Gift of Gifts.
Through the tinsel
let’s look for the gold of the Christmas Star.
In the excitement and confusion, in the merry chaos,
let’s listen for the brush of angels’ wings.
This Advent, let’s go to Bethlehem
and find our kneeling places.

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From a place of inner kneeling, a song rises up to calm. “I can hear the brush angels’ wings, I see glory on each face. Surely, the presence of the Lord is in this place.”

I’m in the very presence of God— oh, how refreshing it is! I’ve made Lord God my home (Psalm 73:28a, MSG).

…Sue…