(I am behind this week, friends. So here is a poem I shared in my newsletter last week. Check back last in the week for a new post and while you're here, sign up for my newsletter to receive more exclusive content during Advent and beyond.)
. . . the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose . . . Isaiah 35:1
(also based on Matthew 11:2-6)
My office is not a desert -
though electric heat does dry the air –
and my great-grandmother’s Christmas cactus
is not a rose. But when I pause in writing
and turn to see – lo! – pink buds prepared
to blossom, I take it as a sign. I take, also,
the first drifting flakes of snow and the praying
mantis’ egg sack tucked inside our fresh cut fir.
John the Baptist, smoldering in prison, sought
Jesus for a sign. “Are you the one,” he asked.
“Or am I to await another?” Jesus gave no sign,
save for what was. “Look, and see, and believe,”
he said, pointing to the prophet’s words.
John looked and saw and doubt
was satisfied. So it is with those who wait
in darkness, who long to see and believe.
My office is not a desert and my great-grandmother’s
Christmas cactus is not a rose, but I will take it
as a sign.
* * *
Welcome to the #SmallWonder link-up.
What if we chose to deliberately look for small moments of wonder, the small sparks of presence, of delight or sorrow, of true humanity in which we meet God?
That's my proposal - that we gather here each week to share one moment of Wonder from each of our days. You're invited to link-up a brief post about a small moment of wonder. Don't worry if your post is too long, too short, or not just right - you're welcome to come as you are.
While you're here, please do take a look around and encourage at least one other blogger with a comment. Thanks for being part of our community!