Advent III - Waiting

This isn't the poem I wanted to write, but in the midst of work craziness and a sick child and now the sudden (if not entirely unexpected) passing of Mike's grandmother it's all I've got...unedited because life in this in-between time, this waiting for another advent, another coming...well, this life just has to be lived unedited in all of the high points and the low points. So we wait with the world, groaning through the low points and rejoicing in the triumphs for that day when there will be no more low points, no more sickness, no more stress, no more worry, no more death.

Photo by Isolino Ferreira via Flickr

This is life

The whole mess of it

The sickness

And the dying

And the laundry

And the laughter.

In the middle of the pain.

We just keep on turning, turning

As we wait for redemption

Wait for God in that one brilliant moment

To explain the whole plan,

End the waiting,

The wanting.

Conquer death,

Grave,

Moth and rust.

Dust.

We are waiting,

Living in the middle

Steeped in mess

But touched by glory.