Last Sunday we learned that God
promised right from the garden of Eden to provide a bridge over the chasm
Adam and Eve put between humans and their holy Creator and for the pride they
unleashed in all our hearts. Since we long to be closer to Him, we wait for
this solution, our Savior, Jesus.
Monday, our hibiscus
bloomed! I had put it outside in the sunshine all summer. Ever hoping for blooms
and figuring if hibiscus bushes bloom in winter in Florida, certainly our little
plant would be loving our summer sun, I frequently checked it for buds. July. Nothing.
August. Rien. September. Nada. October. Still no buds. But when I brought it
inside in November, I noted what seemed to be five (FIVE!) tiny buds. They take
their sweet time unfurling, which prolongs the anticipation. Monday’s flower
was the third in recent weeks. Two more to go.
Tuesday I took Mom a little
jar of Robert’s pot roast, another jar of cousin Margie’s cranberry-pear-orange
relish, and carrot-parsnip soup. Mom said she thought the soup needed cinnamon.
It did need something, but I’d not used cinnamon because it didn’t seem to go
with parsnip. And I’d altered the recipe to include parsnip because I know Mom
likes it, and I’d gone to two grocery stores to find a parsnip that wasn’t desiccated.
Truth be told, what I thought the soup needed was no parsnip (haha). Mom came
up with the idea of adding cilantro, which appealed to her palate. Looking
forward to finding a new carrot soup recipe!
Wednesday and Thursday, I
sought caffeine, then rest after a frustrating, sleepless night, Robert had his
last kidney stone blasted to smithereens, and I made pumpkin-squash soup before
my October farmers market pumpkin and butternut squash withered away. I have no
photos of coffee, kidney stones, or stringy squash innards. Physical malaise
and maladies and rotting veggies—thanks a lot, Adam and Eve. Someday God will
redeem all that.
Friday I set up my grandma’s crèche,
and Robert installed the electric “star.” In the spirit of Advent, I probably
shouldn’t have put the baby Jesus there until December 25. But I find comfort
in seeing Him there now because ADVENT PLOT SPOILER ALERT: Jesus has already come and
closed the gap for people who want God’s grace and truth in their lives. And I
could happily spend the next three weeks being touched by the shepherd kneeling
to worship his Shepherd, to anticipate Emmanuel, heaven come to earth.
Borrowing the last line of each O Little Town of Bethlehem stanza:
The hopes and fears of all the years
are met in thee tonight.
And praises sing to God the
King, and peace to men on earth!
Where meek souls will receive Him
still, the dear Christ enters in.
The dark night wakes, the glory
breaks, and Christmas comes once more.
O come to us, abide with us, our
Lord Emmanuel!
Let all that I am wait quietly
before God, for my hope is in him. Psalm
62:5
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