Reflecting on Isaiah 63: 16b-17, 64: 1, 3b-8
So much of our lives—the vast majority, really—is lived interiorly. The dreams that speak to us at night, and the thoughts that play in our heads during the day, are all stored inside of us. We don’t talk about them, usually. In many ways, except for the indwelling of the Holy Spirit in our every breath, we live our lives alone.
For me, my interior conversation is with my sweet mom, now too long deceased. I wonder what she thinks of me these days. Is she proud of me? Is she noticing how much better I am with writing thank-you notes? Is she amazed that I actually know how to plant flowers?
Would that she might meet me doing right. That’s been my prayer since her death 35 years ago. The hundreds of things we do in a day—the returned phone call, the made bed, the faithfulness in prayer—all speak to the discipline we cultivate in silence through the years. If my mom walked into my home right now, would she meet me doing right?
Fortunately, my mother has always been my stand-in for Jesus. She’s “God with skin on.” It’s Jesus, of course, whom I am really serving when I am conscientious, faithful, a contributing member of society, and unwavering in my defense of the voiceless.
It’s finally Advent. It took forever to get here, especially since it’s felt like Advent these nine months, prayerfully waiting for the end of the pandemic. We’ve got a few months to go. My Advent promise is that I will strive every day to ready my heart for Jesus. I intend for him to meet me doing right.
How will you use these last months of restrictions to do good?
Kathy McGovern ©2020