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  • Writer's picturePastor Micki

Watch for the Light

The James Webb Space Telescope images have given the world a view the world never seen before. What we see has been “there” for oh so long, but we are just now able to “see”. I am mesmerized by the images. To see more Webb images, click https://webbtelescope.org/news/first-images/gallery .


This new year, (the one that begins on Sunday, December 3), our theme is “Watch for the Light”; it is the title of our Advent study book, and it is my prayer for us in everything we do. To watch means to gaze at, or to observe (like the telescope). If we are watching, we will see beauty unfathomable.


More than twenty of us gathered in our candle-lit sanctuary on Wednesday evening, to read, share, and pray. There was a poem I had never read before—and I had to read it several times to even begin to understand the meaning. Eventually, as I gazed upon the words, I began to see.


Black Rook In Rainy Weather


On the stiff twig up there


Hunches a wet black rook


Arranging and rearranging its feathers in the rain-


I do not expect a miracle


Or an accident


To set the sight on fire


In my eye, nor seek


Any more in the desultory weather some design,


But let spotted leaves fall as they fall


Without ceremony, or portent.


Although, I admit, I desire,


Occasionally, some backtalk


From the mute sky, I can't honestly complain:


A certain minor light may still



Lean incandescent


Out of kitchen table or chair


As if a celestial burning took


Possession of the most obtuse objects now and then —


Thus hallowing an interval


Otherwise inconsequent


By bestowing largesse, honor


One might say love. At any rate, I now walk


Wary (for it could happen


Even in this dull, ruinous landscape); skeptical


Yet politic, ignorant


Of whatever angel any choose to flare


Suddenly at my elbow. I only know that a rook


Ordering its black feathers can so shine


As to seize my senses, haul


My eyelids up, and grant


A brief respite from fear


Of total neutrality. With luck,


Trekking stubborn through this season


Of fatigue, I shall


Patch together a content


Of sorts. Miracles occur.


If you care to call those spasmodic


Tricks of radiance


Miracles. The wait's begun again,


The long wait for the angel,


For that rare, random descent.


As we watch, together, the mundane “arranging and rearranging its feathers in the rain”, may we see a miracle of sorts and know a “brief respite from fear”. Let us watch for the light—for incarnation this Advent, this year, in this beautiful life.

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