Seven Days to Wonder

Today, we lit the fourth candle of the Advent Wreath
And so, I begin my week of reflections, “Seven Days to Wonder” followed by some reflections on the Christmas Season.

For us, the Christmas Season does not begin with Halloween, but in the journey from Christmas Day to Epiphany — from the arrival of the good news in the manger to the arrival of the kings and the beginning of the journey that we know

“The Seven Days to Wonder”

It was a bleak, cold day on the plains of Nebraska. If you haven’t been there, you wouldn’t know — but the wind sweeps across the road with shrill, stark bitter cold. One minute flakes and the next iced pellets. There was an urgency.

It was the night of the blessing of the empty stable — he would never tell the kids that this night surpassed Santa’s arrival, but it did. With 237 miles to go, there was nothing but road between him and the small living room with too many kids and not enough money, but all that he ever dreamt about wanting. Empty — he knew something about empty and full — not enough and more than you could ever ask for. Bills to pay and no way to see past the next check, but nothing to complain about — just get to the empty stable.

He gripped the steering wheel with might. The ’58 Chevy had an engine that wouldn’t quit, but the heat left something to be desired. As he was prone to do on days like this, his fingers began to knead the steering wheel and the fox-hole prayer that got him through 17 landings in the South Pacific was counted with the ridges on the back side of the steering wheel. Those Hail Mary’s weren’t passes — they were the scripture of a life lived between harvests teetering between faith and fear.

In the middle of the second decade, and hitting the 149 mile mark, the weather eased a bit and his mind drifted to that empty stable and somewhere close to Lexington he found himself trudging along the gritty road to Bethlehem with nothing but an old worn out donkey and this apparent tragedy that now seemed insignificant. He hardly remembered that moment when he didn’t believe Mary. There was something about the dream that changed him from the inside out — a seismic shift that cant be explained, only lived.

Around about mile 97, it was hard to tell who was who as the two men became interwoven in the experience of believing what cannot be seen — of following the light in the dark — of knowing the path even though no one else believes — of being willing to give your life for this child and the woman who holds your heart. It all becomes one as your learn to live with the judgments of others and the choices that almost don’t seem like choices, because beneath it all there are two things: integrity and love. Between those two is the stuff that eulogies never describe because it’s what happens where real life turns into character.

Somewhere around mile 36, there was a Texaco star that blurred into the message of the angel, “be not afraid” as he filled the tank and felt the warm glow of the blessing of the Empty Stable that would happen right after the Sunday night pot-roast and just before the few short minutes between ending and beginning. He and Joseph would be happy to bless that empty stable because they knew something about being empty — or was it being full?

The Blessing of the Empty Stable
We stand before you
and we empty out the things that don’t belong
so that there is more room for what you will bring

We let go of what hasn’t been, the failures and disappointments
We let go of what couldn’t be, the faulty dreams and idols
We take away the resentments and the despair
We leave behind the “if only’s” and “why’s”
We move out the “this is how we always do it” and repeat performances
We release the “impossible” and the “can’t be done’s”

We bless this empty space of Stable
and we wait — for the possibilities of these seven days
until wonder arrives
with what is possible
what has never been imagined
what can only be
what you would never have thought of
what love looks like

We bless this empty stable and wait for
the arrival …of what is next
in this final time of waiting for
what we believe but cannot see
what we know but cannot describe
what we need but have not awareness
who we are but are too busy to have met up with yet

We bless this empty stable
in wonder, awe, and the in-between time of promise

If only…we believe