The Only Proper Response

Prayer walking into town today, the colours after the rain in glorious technicolour, and then I looked backwards and saw this rainbow in front of Monsaraz, ending in the Lake. It felt like a promise of hope for the future of this place; I was so moved. 

Darkling today ends the section on Liturgies of Loss, talking about Hebrew shiva, the ritualised week-long period of mourning. The part I thought interesting was that when you are visiting someone who is sitting shiva, you are not allowed to speak until the bereaved speaks... presence being more meaningful than platitudes.

But what I loved more today was this poem from another Advent calendar I am following:

“Sharon’s Prayer”
by John Shea


      She was five,
      sure of the facts,
      and recited them
      with slow solemnity
      convinced every word
      was revelation.
      She said

they were so poor
they had only peanut butter and jelly 
sandwiches to eat
and they went a long way from home
without getting lost. The lady rode
a donkey, the man walked, and the baby
was inside the lady.
They had to stay in a stable
with an ox and an ass (hee hee)
but the Three Rich Men found them
because a star lited the roof.
Shepherds came and you could
pet the sheep but not feed them.
Then the baby was borned.
And do you know who he was?

      Her quarter eyes inflated
      to silver dollars.

The baby was God!

      And she jumped in the air
      whirled round, dove into the sofa
     and buried her head 
      under the cushion
      which is the only proper response
      to the Good News 
      of the Incarnation.

Gratefuls:
- hope rekindled
- a video of Eden proper laughing
- tuna toasties and an imperial