Twas the Beginning of Advent by J. Todd Jenkins 'Twas the beginning of Advent and all through the Church Our hope was all dying-- we'd given up on the search. It wasn't so much that Christ wasn't invited, But after 2,000 plus years we were no longer excited. Oh, we knew what was coming-- no doubt about that. And that was the trouble-- it was all "old hat." November brought the first of an unending series of pains With carefully orchestrated advertising campaigns. There were gadgets and dolls and all sorts of toys. Enough to seduce even the most devout girls and boys. Unfortunately, it seemed, no one was completely exempt From this seasonal virus that did all of us tempt. The priests and prophets and certainly the kings Were all so consumed with the desire for "things!" It was rare, if at all, that you'd hear of the reason For the origin of this whole holy-day season. A baby, it seems, once had been born In the mid-east somewhere on that first holy-day morn. But what does that mean for folks like us, Who've lost ourselves in the hoopla and fuss? Can we re-learn the art of wondering and waiting, Of hoping and praying, and anticipating? Can we let go of all the things and the stuff? Can we open our hands and our hearts long enough? Can we open our eyes and open our ears? Can we find him again after all of these years? Will this year be different from all the rest? Will we be able to offer him all of our best? So many questions, unanswered thus far, As wisemen seeking the home of the star. Where do we begin-- how do we start To make for the child a place in our heart? Perhaps we begin by letting go Of our limits on hope, and of the stuff that we know. Let go of the shopping, of the chaos and fuss, Let go of the searching, let Christmas find us. We open our hearts, our hands and our eyes, To see the king coming in our own neighbors' cries. We look without seeking what we think we've earned, But rather we're looking for relationships spurned. With him he brings wholeness and newness of life For brother and sister, for husband and wife. The Christ-child comes not by our skill, But rather he comes by his own Father's will. We can't make him come with parties and bright trees, But only by getting down on our knees. He'll come if we wait amidst our affliction, Coming in spite of, not by our restriction. His coming will happen-- of this there's no doubt. The question is whether we'll be in or out. "Behold, I stand at the door and knock." Do you have the courage to peer through the lock? A basket on your porch, a child in your reach. A baby to love, to feed and to teach. He'll grow in wisdom as God's only Son. How far will we follow this radical one? He'll lead us to challenge the way that things are. He'll lead us to follow a single bright star. But that will come later if we're still around. The question for now: Is the child to be found? Can we block out commercials, the hype and the malls? Can we find solitude in our holy halls? Can we keep alert, keep hope, stay awake? Can we receive the child for ours and God's sake? From on high with the caroling host as he sees us, He yearns to read on our lips the prayer: Come Lord Jesus! As Advent begins all these questions make plea. The only true answer: We will see, we will see.
Today I found this poem on the floor of the study.
As part of our requirements of School we have always thought Charlotte Mason's Poetry to be very important. As we have gone through our schooling with the children, this has been a theme I always come back to. The older children can still recite the poems they learnt as young children and I love to hear them recite still.
Heaven's Grocery Store
I was walking down life's highway a long time ago.
One day I saw a sign that read "Heaven's Grocery Store".
As I got a little closer, the door came open wide.
When I came to myself, I was standing just inside.
I saw a host of angels. They were standing everywhere.
One handed me a basket and said, "My child, please shop with care".
Everything a Christian needed was in that Grocery Store.
All you couldn't carry, you could come back the next day for.
First, I got some PATIENCE; LOVE was in the very same row.
Further down was UNDERSTANDING, you needed it wherever you go.
I got a box or two of WISDOM, a bag or two of FAITH.
I just couldn't miss the HOLY SPIRIT, for He was all over the place!!
I stopped to get some STRENGTH and COURAGE to help me run this race.
By then my basket was getting full but...I remembered I needed some GRACE!
I didn't forget SALVATION, for SALVATION was free.
So I tried to get enough of that to save both you and me.
Then I started up to the counter to pay my grocery bill,
for I thought I had everything to do my Master's will.
As I wind up the aisle I saw PRAYER and I just had to put that in.
For I knew when I stepped outside, I would run right into sin.
PEACE and JOY were plentiful; they were on the last shelf.
SONGS and PRAISES were hanging near, so I just helped myself.
Then I said to the angel, "How much do I owe?"
He just smiled and said, "Just take them everywhere you go."
Again I smiled at him and said, "How much do I owe?"
He smiled again and said......
"My child, JESUS PAID YOUR BILL A LONG TIME AGO!"
While searching for St Michael information I came upon this poem.
It made me cry for that little girl and made me rejoice that she had such wonderful memories of her Daddy.
I pray that our children can also feel such joy for their Daddy.
Her hair was up in a ponytail,
her favorite dress tied with a bow.
Today was Daddy's Day at school,
and she couldn't wait to go.
But her mommy tried to tell her,
that she probably should stay home.
Why the kids might not understand,
if she went to school alone.
But she was not afraid;
she knew just what to say.
What to tell her classmates
of why he wasn't there today.
But still her mother worried,
for her to face this day alone.
And that was why once again,
she tried to keep her daughter home.
But the little girl went to school,
eager to tell them all.
About a dad she never see
a dad who never calls.
There were daddies along the wall in back,
for everyone to meet.
Children squirming impatiently,
anxious in their seats.
One by one the teacher called,
a student from the class.
To introduce their daddy,
as seconds slowly passed.
At last the teacher called her name,
every child turned to stare.
Each of them was searching,
for a man who wasn't there.
"Where's her daddy at?"
she heard a boy call out.
"She probably doesn't have one,"
another student dared to shout.
And from somewhere near the back,
she heard a daddy say,
"Looks like another deadbeat dad,
too busy to waste his day."
The words did not offend her,
as she smiled up at her Mom.
And looked back at her teacher,
who told her to go on.
And with hands behind her back,
slowly she began to speak.
And out from the mouth of a child,
came words incredibly unique.
"My Daddy couldn't be here,
because he lives so far away.
But I know he wishes he could be,
since this is such a special day.
And though you cannot meet him,
I wanted you to know.
All about my daddy,
and how much he loves me so.
He loved to tell me stories
he taught me to ride my bike.
He surprised me with pink roses,
and taught me to fly a kite.
We used to share fudge sundaes,
and ice cream in a cone.
And though you cannot see him,
I'm not standing here alone.
"Cause my daddy's always with me,
even though we are apart
I know because he told me,
he'll forever be in my heart"
With that, her little hand reached up,
and lay across her chest.
Feeling her own heartbeat,
beneath her favorite dress.
And from somewhere in the crowd of dads,
her mother stood in tears.
Proudly watching her daughter,
who was wise beyond her years.
For she stood up for the love
of a man not in her life.
Doing what was best for her,
doing what was right.
And when she dropped her hand back down,
staring straight into the crowd.
She finished with a voice so soft,
but its message clear and loud.
"I love my daddy very much,
he's my shining star.
And if he could, he'd be here,
but heaven's just too far
You see he was a fireman
and died just this past year
When airplanes hit the towers
and taught Americans to fear.
But sometimes when I close my eyes,
it's like he never went away."
And then she closed her eyes,
and saw him there that day.
And to her mother's amazement,
she witnessed with surprise.
A room full of daddies and children,
all starting to close their eyes.
Who knows what they saw before them,
who knows what they felt inside.
Perhaps for merely a second,
they saw him at her side.
"I know you're with me Daddy,"
to the silence she called out.
And what happened next made believers,
of those once filled with doubt.
Not one in that room could explain it,
for each of their eyes had been closed.
But there on the desk beside her,
was a fragrant long-stemmed pink rose.
And a child was blessed, if only for a moment,
by the love of her shining bright star.
And given the gift of believing,
that heaven is never too far.
Blessings,
I did not mention last week that the children also do other memory work that they are tested on each Friday.
And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—
He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet, black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the West.
On Monday while sorting through trying to find a particular piece of poetry for one of the children, I came across these books that I will be adding to our circle time with the M&M's and Corbyn.
Poetry Friday on Wednesday.
Have a lovely time browsing ♥
