H O P E

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The lingering malaise of 2020 has affected my sense of time. One of the reasons I appreciate the liturgical seasons is the grounding it offers, it invites us into an intentional focus for a period of time. The simplicity of Advent has always drawn me. This year, as we lit the prophetic candle for HOPE, I sobbed because hoping feels hard. Prophets reimagine hope for us and we are all called to be prophetic, but prophets are rarely accepted for their gifts. 

My prayer is to practice the stubborn hope of God, the hoping of the One who never stops holding us.


I lit my candle for all those that are not accepted in our communities
The strangers who are different than me
The truthtellers
The weirdos
The grieving
The ones struggling with mental illness
The poets
The ones whose sins are public
The outcast
The rightfully angry
The ones turning tables outside our temples
The exhausted
The ones that exclaim “I can’t breathe”
I lit my candle to honor you
To see you
To see myself
To try and hope

Blessed Advent, amig@s

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