Monday, December 2, 2013

Oh, turkey fog.  I need a fast.  A month-long fast.  Thank you, dear Lord, for Advent.  Thank you for the season of longing!  You thought of everything.  It's as if you are omniscient, or something...Oh!  Wait!  yes, you are.  Because you are God.  If only we'd listen to you and do as you say, how happy we could be.

Lo, how a Rose e'er blooming
from tender stem hath sprung!
Of Jesse's lineage coming,
as those of old have sung.
It came, a floweret bright,
amid the cold of winter,
when half spent was the night.

Isaiah 'twas foretold it,
the Rose I have in mind;
with Mary we behold it
the Virgin Mother kind.
To show God's love aright,
she bore to us a Savior,
when half spent was the night.

I wish you desperate yearning for the Savior, and happy deprivation in preparation for The Feast.


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