it was such a big deal when i was a little girl. the pink and purple candles sat in their wicker wreath, wax dripping every Sunday when a new candle burned.
then i got married and moved into my own home. and i forgot.
i forgot the importance of this expectation.
this coming into place, this arrival of the Son of God.
i forgot everything i had been taught, about the sacredness that can be found in the silent moments of flickering candle flames.
and so for three years, i have had no candles to light and no verses to read. it has been as though the events of my childhood swiftly faded into the modern haze of overcrowded schedules and too much planning.
and then this year, it's been following me. i've read blog posts about the subject, seen commercials laden with reminders. it's a whisper, a reminder, the hand of God touching my heart
if it was anyone else,
would i have forgotten?
or would i have laid my steps out carefully, preparing to greet this coming mortal?
but the King of Glory comes, and i forget Him.
and so this year, i'm finding candles and setting them out. my reminders, my beacon lights to the coming King.
these lights, one by one by one, lit in the darkness to set my yearning soul aglow -- a simple way of speaking to the silence,
i'm waiting for You.