She’s here! And she’s wonderful. Granddaughter #2 has arrived and we are overjoyed to make her acquaintance. Her name is Lilly (short for Lillian Ruth) and she is perfect in every way, from her mohawk hairdo to her tiny little toenails. We are thanking God today for the miracle of new life, for a healthy mom and baby, and for the promise that this new life brings to our family circle and to the world.
Lilly is very mellow (so far!), seems quite small compared to her 4-year-old sister, Grace, and is generally unperturbed by this new world of light and noise and activity. Babies are such a picture of grace for me – utter dependence on someone else to make sure they are nurtured and nourished and gently guided into maturity. Completely trusting that somehow, all those needs will be met, open and curious about the world around them, creatures of small physical volume but immense vocal volume!
Gracie will be a remarkable older sister – showing the way, protecting, teaching. It will be such a joy to watch them grow up as a twosome! I’m sure there will be fights and hurt feelings and the stretching that comes when love (and toys) must be shared. But what a wonderful gift to have a sister – something I don’t have and have often wished for. May each amazing girl find her way to the joyful discovery of who it is God has designed her to be – inhabiting their own unique selves – that glorious mix of gifts/tastes/skills/desires/personalities that makes them Grace and Lilly – with confidence and gratitude and generosity. It is a privilege to be their grandmother. They join six remarkable male cousins on this side of their family and two amazing boys (so far) on their mom’s side. Believe me, they will hold their own.
Oh, my, what a morning!
February 26, 2010 By
A Prayer for the 1st Sunday in Lent…
February 21, 2010 By
written by Diana R.G. Trautwein
for worship at
Montecito Covenant Church
February 21, 2010
Interspersed with words from Psalm 84
“How lovely is your dwelling place, LORD Almighty!
My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the LORD;
my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God.”
We gather this morning
as your yearning people, O Lord.
We join the psalmist in crying out for you,
the living God.
Beneath everything else we think we want,
below the surface dreams and fantasies,
sitting at bedrock in the center of ourselves,
is a deep longing for you.
You alone can fill the empty spaces
in our spirits,
and you can fill them
with life
and hope
and peace.
How lovely, indeed.
“Even the sparrow has found a home,
and the swallow a nest for herself,
where she may have her young—
a place near your altar,
LORD Almighty, my King and my God.”
“Even the sparrow….”
the smallest, most ordinary,
everyday house bird
can find a place of welcome
and rest in your presence.
Your mercy and grace are like that, O Lord,
and we are grateful.
There is room for the likes of us
near your altar,
sparrow or swallow,
young or old,
male or female,
strong or frail –
there is room,
there is welcome,
there is rest,
there is home.
Thank you.
“Blessed are those who dwell in your house;
they are ever praising you.
Blessed are those whose strength is in you,
whose hearts are set on pilgrimage.”
And we do praise you this morning, O God.
We praise you that you are our home.
that you are our strength.
And as we this week begin
our annual Lenten pilgrimage –
our journey to the cross of Good Friday,
and the empty tomb of Easter Sunday –
we want to set our hearts to it.
We want to open ourselves to the
refining,
sharpening,
quickening work of your Spirit.
May our souls be formed more and more
into the likeness of Jesus,
even as we place our feet on the Calvary road,
the way that leads through
the reflection and repentance of Lent
to the celebration and feasting
of Resurrection Sunday.
“Hear my prayer, LORD God Almighty;
listen to me, God of Jacob.”
The psalmist beseeches you to listen, Lord God,
to hear and answer.
And we offer prayers as well,
prayers for ourselves –
that we might live more fully into
your picture of us as beloved sons and daughters.
And as your children, we offer prayers for our children,
most especially this morning
for those high school students –
who really are all our children –
and their leaders as they play and worship
and learn together this weekend.
Guide, protect, instruct, refresh –
work your way in their lives,
calling each one of them to recognize and to honor
their own deep yearning for you.
We pray for those who are wrestling
with hard stuff today, Lord –
those who have lost a loved one
like Tom Dalton has this week
in the passing of his mother;
those who are facing treatment for cancer,
or surgery of one kind or another,
or who live with a chronic illness,
or long-term pain –
please bring healing and hope
into each of these situations.
We pray for those who live with
or who care for those who live with
mental and emotional distress and illness,
or the slow, lingering loss
of memory and sense of self
that comes with dementia.
Bring refreshment and hope and courage into
each unique situation and relationship.
Strengthen and encourage
your servant and friend, Helen,
as she brings for us your word of blessing this morning.
Thank you for her inspired leadership this past week
and for the truths she has skillfully
and gently guided us toward.
Thank you for the invitation
to bring our requests and concerns
right into your lovely dwelling place, O Lord,
and thank you that you listen with love.
“Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere;
I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God
than dwell in the tents of the wicked.”
For the LORD God is a sun and shield;
the LORD bestows favor and honor;
no good thing does he withhold from those
whose walk is blameless.
LORD Almighty, blessed are those who trust in you.”
O help us to be counted among those
who trust in you, Lord Almighty,
that our walk might be blameless,
that we might forever be found in your courts,
gifted recipients of your favor and honor.
We pray these things in the name of
the only truly blameless one, even
Jesus Christ,
our good shepherd,
elder brother,
Savior and Lord.
Amen.
The Gift of Grandchildren
February 16, 2010 By
Almost alone among our college friends, Dick and I have enjoyed the gift of grandchildren for a good, long time now. On February 10, 1991, our eldest daughter and her husband started us on this journey when Benjamin Scott Trautwein Fischinger was born by emergency c-section. That dramatic beginning marked the start of a most surprising and delightful journey for us, one that continues to amaze and gratify. So this year, astounding as this sounds!, our number-one grandchild is living with his grandparents while enrolled in the film studies program at SBCC. And he happened to be here on his birthday – number 19. And he happened to have just about a 90 minute window in his very busy schedule as a member of a documentary team from the college who were fully booked most of the last two weeks filming interviews at the increasingly international Santa Barbara Film Festival. So we took him out to brunch to celebrate God’s great gift of BEN to this world.
He ordered the Boathouse Signature Breakfast and seemed to enjoy every bite – crabcakes benedict on a field of breakfast potatoes. Great food and a great view on what turned out to be an absolutely spectacular day for breakfast at the beach. 
What an amazing privilege it is to be able to live long enough to enjoy watching your children’s children grow to adulthood. Each one of our six grandsons and soon-to-be two granddaughters (February 25th is coming soon!) is an absolute gift of God and brings a unique gift mix to our family and to the world. We can hardly wait to see how each will unfurl those gifts, those remarkable personalities, as they grow into the people God has designed for them to be. 
Our Wednesday Birthday Brunch was followed on Friday evening by a larger family gathering for dinner at Stella Mare’s and Ben’s favorite cake at our house afterwards. We missed Joy’s family – traveling with a boy in a body cast is difficult at best, impossible in Friday traffic! Rachel (carrying baby girl #2) lit the candles and Ben blew them all out while the rest of us cheered him on. Hard to believe 19 years have flown by.
Meanwhile, I am happy to report that our beautiful boy with the broken leg is slowly healing (got his huge cast cut down about an inch last week) and enjoyed a play-date with his almost-the-same-age (one month apart) cousin Grace. The huge cast remains until at least March 4. So we thank you again for your prayers and humbly ask you to continue to remember Griffin and his family as they flex to care for him.
Meanwhile, I am happy to report that our beautiful boy with the broken leg is slowly healing (got his huge cast cut down about an inch last week) and enjoyed a play-date with his almost-the-same-age (one month apart) cousin Grace. The huge cast remains until at least March 4. So we thank you again for your prayers and humbly ask you to continue to remember Griffin and his family as they flex to care for him. You know – we got into this family-building business when we were ridiculously young and inexperienced. And we’ve made a lot of mistakes along the way. But, WE ARE SO GLAD we started early enough to enjoy this whole span of ages, stages and phases – from newborn to nineteen – while we’re still (relatively) young enough and healthy enough to truly relish it all. Who knew it could be so wonderful??
A Communion Prayer…
February 7, 2010 By
written by Diana R.G. Trautwein
for worship at Montecito Covenant Church
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Holy Father,
Loving Lord Jesus,
Comforting Spirit –
to you, Triune God, we lift our hearts in prayer,
to you, we lift our hands in praise,
to you, we lift our lives in gratitude.
We’re at the table again, Lord.
This table –
where you call us
to remember you,
to celebrate your gift of life even in the midst of death,
to eat a little piece of the bread of life,
to take a tiny sip of the fruit of the vine –
and in doing that,
to receive once again
you in our midst.
It’s not as though you’re not here at other times,
at all other times, as a matter of fact.
It’s that you’re here,
here at this table,
in a particular way,
a particularly blessed and sacred way.
A way we don’t truly understand,
but which we cherish
and look forward to
and find rich meaning in.
A way that speaks to us of mystery and wonder,
that calls us to humble confession and contrition,
that promises us a unique point of connection with you,
a connection that brings with it
life
and hope
and joy.
So, as we take part in this very familiar and dearly loved ritual today,
we want to stop for a few minutes and savor it.
First,
we want to say how much we need to be here today.
We need it because we are needy people,
‘standin’ in the need of prayer,’
hungry for a sign of grace,
deeply desirous of a fresh start,
another chance,
a place to begin again.
Hear our prayers of need just now, Lord –
for in this moment of quiet,
we’re going to tell you how sorry we are for…
so many things
we’ve said or done
or not said or not done –
and how much we need, once again, your forgiving grace.
Hear, O Lord, our prayers of confession:
– Silence –
Thank you.
Thank you for listening once again
and thank you for the sweetness of forgiveness
and the releasing, strengthening power of sins forgotten,
because of grace-made-flesh in Jesus.
Since the last time we gathered together around this table, Lord,
each one of us has come up against it,
in one way or another.
Come up against
the darkness and sadness of life on planet earth,
as well as come up against
the gift and the beauty of life in this place.
Each of us has a long list of things
for which to say, ‘Thank you, God!’
and each one has a long list of things
for which to say,
‘Help us, O God!’
And we know, Lord,
that you are with us in the middle of it all –
the beauty and the gift,
the darkness and the sadness.
So, hear, O Lord, our list of thank-you’s
as we offer them to you silently::
– Silence –
And hear, O Lord, our list of,
‘Help us, O God’ requests:
– Silence –
We know, O Lord, that your Spirit
is constantly at work within us
to help us be people who bear rich fruit –
fruit that looks like love and joy and peace –
no matter what circumstances
we may find ourselves in from day to day.
For life – full, rich, wonderful, terrible life
is such a crazy, mixed-up thing –
and the living of that life is made
infinitely deeper and richer when
we live it in the center of your will
and design for us.
So we pray that for ourselves this morning.
as we set aside these small pieces of bread,
and these tiny cups of juice,
for the holy and sacred privilege of sharing them
together in the act of communion –
and
we pray for our own continuing transformation –
that the fruit of the Spirit would be
evident in us,
and then through us,
also evident in our families,
in our places of employment,
in our circle of friends,
in our wider community.
For your glory, O Lord.
Amen.
Oh, Ouch!
February 7, 2010 By
My, it’s been a hard, sad week in our family. Our youngest grandson, Griffin, age 4, broke his left femur on Thursday afternoon, January 28th. Coincidentally, that was his Aunt Lisa’s birthday – a fact which pretty much got shunted to the sidelines after word spread of Griff’s accident. He and his brothers were playing on their ‘world’s safest trampoline’ – one of their favorite things to do – and were engaging in a simple game of hide-and-seek. Sorta like Marco Polo in a swimming pool, except without the water. So eyes closed, an older brother swung his arms around ‘in the dark,’ somehow connecting with Griffin in such a way that his body went one direction and his leg went the other, causing a spiral fracture midway down that large left thigh-bone. And all 3 boys heard it. Very scary, very painful. Somehow, there is nothing worse than a small child who is frightened and hurting.
Fortunately, the break – which was clear through the bone on a diagonal line – could be ‘reduced’ without the surgical insertion of rods and screws. BUT that had to happen under anesthesia and be done by a pediatric orthopedist – and there was only one recommended and available….but she had a full day of appointments on Friday and could not return to the hospital until about 5:00 p.m. So it was 24 hours on heavy duty pain meds before any kind of relief truly came.
And that relief, as you can see in the picture above, is HUGE and CUMBERSOME and COMPLICATED. Pretty much a full body cast for the next 6-10 weeks, depending on the rate of healing. We came down and stayed with the big brothers for 3 nights while Griff’s parents stayed in the hospital with him. Their new church family rallied wonderfully, as did hosts of friends and relatives, and they’ve now been managing Griff’s care for a full week at home – without having to cook a single dinner! We took our 4-year-old granddaughter Gracie down for a day’s visit – very good medicine – and each day, he seems to be less fearful and mom and dad seem to have the routine down a little more fully. We all wish like anything that it had never happened – but – it did. So thanks to so many for your prayers and notes and gifts of love to all of us – and please keep dear Griffin in your prayers for the next little while.
A Rainy Day Prayer…
January 18, 2010 By
During the announcement time this morning, our very talented pianist/vocalist came across the sanctuary to ask me if it would be all right for her to play a few chords as I began my prayer. She had done it for our senior pastor during the early service and thought it worked pretty well, was it okay? Sure, I said, and then you’ll sort of fade out, right? She nodded and slipped away into the crowd, heading back to the piano.
We sang a marvelous, somewhat new-to-us offertory song just before we went to prayer, and so I opted to preface my written prayer with a few words from the song, words that seemed appropriate somehow. The pianist played, as promised. And soon, so did the lead guitar, plus a little bit of reverb guitar and even a tiny bit of drum, I think. It was lovely – but it was a greater volume than I had anticipated, so I found myself morphing into Southern Evangelist Mode and fairly shouting through most of the prayer. Interestingly enough – as so often happens in worship preparation! – the Spirit had given me words that lent themselves to this style. At the close of the prayer time, the worship team segued into an unscripted reprise, which was just lovely. Our pastor’s chosen theme for the morning – ‘change.’ The song lyrics at the beginning and end are from “Revelation Song,” by Jennie Lee Riddle, Gateway Create Publishing, 2004
A Rainy Day Prayer
written by Diana R.G. Trautwein
for worship at Montecito Covenant Church
January 17, 2010
“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty,
Who was and is and is to come;
With all creation I sing praise to the King of kings;
You are my ev’rything and I will adore You.
clothed in rainbows of living color, flashes of lightning, rolls of thunder;
Blessing and honor, strength and glory and power
be to You, the only wise King.
The rain is coming, Holy Father,
or so the weather folk
and the drops on the patio tell us.
The rain is coming,
showering the earth with the promise of new life,
washing the cobwebs away,
filling the reservoirs,
changing the brown, dry ground into a carpet of green.
The earth is thirsty for the rain, Lord,
hungry for the kind of change
that brings with it hope,
and the promise of new beginnings.
And we, as people of the earth,
are thirsty and hungry as well.
For the rain – certainly!
Despite its occasional inconveniences,
rain is refreshing,
calling us to quieter, more reflective activities.
We all need rain days once in a while.
But beyond that kind of thirst,
that kind of hunger,
there is something even deeper,
more urgent,
more necessary.
For we hunger and thirst after you, Lord God.
We long to hear you say, your Spirit to our spirits:
“I will pour water on the thirsty land,
and streams on the dry ground;
I will pour my spirit upon your descendants,
and my blessings on your offspring.”
We long for your Holy Rain
in our lives,
and in our world.
We watch the pictures coming out of Haiti
and cannot believe what our eyes are telling us.
Rain down mercy, Lord!
Rain down mercy, and healing power and hope!
We listen to some of the angry political rhetoric
furiously flying
out of the mouths of our leaders,
and we wonder if anyone tells the truth anymore.
Rain down reason, Lord!
Rain down reason, and truth-telling and wisdom!
We listen to the words coming out of our own mouths
some days and we wonder
if some mean-spirited alter-ego
has taken up residence in our souls.
Rain down forgiveness, Lord!
Rain down forgiveness, and humility and love!
We watch our children and our grandchildren
stretching toward the light,
learning to be human.
And we hope and pray for a viable future for them all.
Rain down protection, Lord!
Rain down protection, and healing to our planet,
and strong systems of care – from the nuclear family to
the Department of Social Services.
We watch our elders,
saints who have led us on the path toward you,
and we pray for a good ending, Lord,
a good ending and the promise of a rich new beginning
as they transition from this life to the next.
And for all of us, Lord,
children, elders, middlers,
youth, students, young parents,
all of us thirsty for you,
so in need of the life-giving rain
of your Spirit in every corner of our lives –
for all of us,
we ask pliability,
flexibility,
bendability –
the willingness to yield to change
and the wisdom to ask for it with our whole hearts.
Cleanse away those cobwebs!
Fill the reservoirs to overflowing!
Change the dry, dusty ground of our being
by bringing forth a carpet of green,
fresh and new.
Change us into that vision
you hold for each one of us –
that reality that is totally unique to each of us,
yet clearly related to our elder brother,
Jesus Christ,
in whose image we are designed,
through whose sacrifice we are reclaimed,
from whose resurrection we take assurance of our own,
even Jesus Christ.
“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty.
Who was and is and is to come.”
Amen.
Words, schmerds…
January 10, 2010 By
I was just sittin’ here, studying for a teaching session tomorrow morning on holiness and the glory of God, when my husband walked by and said, “Hey, look up for a minute.” WOW. Think I’m about done now with words for tomorrow. Right outside my bedroom door was this spectacular sunset sight. Thank you!
A Prayer for Beginnings…
January 3, 2010 By
written by Diana R.G. Trautwein
for worship at Montecito Covenant Church
January 3, 2010
Today’s table prayer will be longer than usual
and will include several opportunities for silent prayer.
Will you come with me, ‘down to the river to the pray,‘ this morning?
It’s a ‘back to the basics’ kind of day today, Lord.
A small window of time designed
to help us cut through the complicated web of
activities,
commitments,
appointments,
and just plain ‘stuff’
that we tend to gather around us like so much
heavy luggage,
a time to push away from all that insulation
that too often causes isolation,
a time to breathe a little bit more calmly,
to slow down,
to remember who we are and whose we are,
beloved children of Almighty God.
And we need that kind of breather about now.
It’s important for us to just stop here for a few minutes,
isn’t it, God?
It’s important to reflect quietly on where we’ve been,
and on where we’re headed.
And in the process of that reflection,
it’s good for us to say some simple, basic,
but very important, words to you,
basic words that loved children
say to a loving Father.
So we’ll begin with these:
THANK YOU.
Thank you, thank you, thank you
for the goodness and beauty of life,
for the power and promise of our faith,
for the joy of knowing you,
and of being known by you.
Hear us as we offer silent prayers of thanksgiving
for those people and experiences
in the year just past which have given us glimpses of your love.
— Silence —
We continue our time of quiet reflection
with another set of basic words, Holy Friend,
and here they are:
WE’RE SO SORRY.
We are very sorry for the words,
spoken and unspoken,
for the deeds,
done and undone,
for the thoughts,
silent or expressed,
which have caused pain for others or ourselves
and which have gotten in the way of our
relationship with you.
Hear us now as we offer silent prayers of confession
in this moment of quietness.
— Silence —
For the wondrous reality of grace in our lives,
for the confidence that our sins are forgiven,
we rejoice and give you praise.
And as your thankful, forgiven children, Lord God,
gathered round the family table this morning,
ready to dip our fingers in the waters of our baptism,
ready to remember all that you’ve promised,
we also need to offer these really basic words:
LORD, HAVE MERCY.
There are so many in our midst who are struggling today,
people we love,
people we care about,
maybe even we ourselves.
And there are so many others,
whom we don’t know,
whom we don’t love –
except in the most abstract possible use of that word –
people who are caught in messes
that are beyond our power to comprehend,
who are suffering in ways
we have trouble even imagining.
They, too, need your mercy.
So today, before we eat this bread or drink this cup,
before we swirl the waters,
before we participate in these holy parables of love and promise,
we pause to remember that you are God,
the God we know to be loving and merciful and just.
So, hear our prayers for mercy, O Lord, as we offer them to you
on this day of new beginnings, in the silent temples of our own hearts.
— Silence —
Holy Trinity –
Father, Son, Spirit,
Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer,
Thank you!
We’re so sorry!
Have mercy!
Back to the basics, indeed.
We pray today in the sweet name of Jesus,
using that most basic of prayers,
the one he taught us, saying…
Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our sins as
we forgive those who have sinned against us.
Lead us not into temptation and deliver us from evil,
for thine is the kingdom and the power and glory forever.
Amen.
A Prayer for Christmas Eve, 2009
December 24, 2009 By
written by Diana R.G. Trautwein
Christmas Eve, 2009
The candles are lit, the tree is glimmering,
the smell of fresh pine lingers in the air.
It’s Christmas Eve, Lord God,
that time when we gather together
to remember,
to tell the story one more time,
to celebrate
and contemplate
and wonder
and worship.
We’ve come from lots of different places tonight, Lord.
We’ve got lists in our heads of all that still needs to be done
before this holiday season is finished.
But….we’ve come.
We’ve come to church.
We’ve come to hear your word,
to sing of angels
and shepherds
and mangers
and mysteries too deep to decipher.
Some of us come here often,
some of us not so much.
Some of us come here hoping to hear good news,
some of us come here knowing we’ll hear it.
Some of us come because
someone else wants us to come.
Some of us come because, well,
we always come to church on Christmas Eve.
There are some of us, of course, who come
because we really want to be here.
And then there are those of us who come
because we are desperate to be here,
just plain desperate.
We’re hungry for hope,
we’re starved for beauty,
we’re panting for a spoonful of peace in our lives,
we’re gasping for a sense of glory,
for something bigger
and braver
and deeper
and denser
than the stuff we see around us everyday.
We’d like to catch a glimpse of an angel,
to hear just the faintest echo of a heavenly chorus,
to see the smallest reflection of a dazzling star,
to hear the muffled cries of a newborn babe,
a baby whose arrival
will literally change the direction of history.
The amazing thing about Christmas Eve, Lord,
is that all of us –
the ones here to please someone else,
the ones here out of habit and custom,
the ones who delight to be here,
the ones who need to be here –
all of us are part of the story we tell tonight,
the story we sing tonight,
the story we hear tonight.
Because those angels
and that star
and that baby in the manger
are for all of us.
The wonder of the incarnation is not for a select few,
but for all
who will enter into the mystery,
become part of the Grand Story;
all who will listen to the angels’ song and join the chorus:
“Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”
So…grant us the wisdom and the will to do just that –
to enter into the mystery,
to become part of the story,
to join the angel chorus.
Grant us the firm assurance of your favor resting on each one of us,
and fill us with the peace of the Bethlehem babe,
that same one
who grew in grace and favor with God and people,
that same one
who showed us how to live a life of
purpose and joy,
that same one
who climbed onto a tree of pain for our sakes,
who died and was raised again to glory.
It’s Christmas Eve and we are so glad!
Glory to God in the highest!
Amen.
A Prayer for Christmas Eve, 2008
December 24, 2009 By
A prayer written for last year’s Christmas Eve Service. Can’t get the formatting to do single space when I copy and paste from a word doc – any ideas??
December 24, 2008
Written by Diana R.G. Trautwein
It’s Christmas Eve again, Lord, and here we are.
Gathered in out of the rain,
our Christmas finery on,
our spirits eager – or weary;
our ears and our hearts open – or not;
our families nearby,
our dinners either digesting or awaiting us soon.
We’re here.
And for some of us, Lord, that’s just about all we can manage.
We’re just barely able to stand with those shepherds,
tired and cold from their nighttime duties,
confused about the strange singing in the skies above,
wondering about that tiny newborn in the corner.
“So,” we wonder with them,
“what’s the big deal with this little One?”
Some of us come, willing only to stand at the edges,
perhaps somewhere near those wise ones from the east.
Because we’re searching tonight, Holy Friend,
we’re searching… for truth, for insight,
for strange portents in the sky that will give us
the answer to the mysteries of the ages.
“Could this be the One?” we wonder with the eastern kings.
“Could this be the Answer we’ve been searching for?”
And thankfully, God, there are some of us in this lovely room tonight
who are a lot like Joseph.
Steady and stalwart,
well-versed in the traditions of our tribe,
yet open to something new that God might be doing.
We struggle to be obedient to what we think God is saying,
to be sensitive to what we think God is doing.
But…it’s been a long, hard journey getting here,
and, to tell you the truth –
we’re tired, through and through.
“Here he is, at last,” we say to ourselves.
“But now, we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.
A baby to raise and protect,
a child to love and nurture,
a young adult to challenge and convince,
a lifetime of commitment and investment,
of worry and vigilance,
of duty and delight.”
And, Gracious God, there are even some of us here tonight
who might choose to align ourselves with Mary.
We’ve just come through a tough task,
but we did it!
The baby is safely birthed,
your promises have been fulfilled,
something remarkable is just beginning and we can feel it,
we can see it, shining in the unformed future ahead of us.
And mysterious as it seems to be now,
we know, because of the grace we have already experienced in our lives…
it is all going to be good news. All of it.
And so, we gather tonight – like that amazing cast of characters gathering
in this beautiful story we repeat every Christmas Eve.
The story that is at the center of who we are,
the story that speaks to us of Love Unspeakable;
the story that sings to us of Joy Unsingable;
the story that tells us.
For all of us are welcome here.
That is the glorious truth we praise you for tonight.
All of us –
weary shepherds,
searching wise ones,
faithful yet fearful fathers,
loving yet wondering mothers –
all of us
are welcome here.
For that little one in the corner over there,
that wee newborn,
waving his hands,
looking around,
listening to the sounds of the night –
that tiny, weak and helpless One
is the same One who blew the breath of life into
each and every one of us.
“How can this be?” we wonder. “How can this be?”
And then, we hear again your words of love and promise and power:
“Behold, a virgin shall conceive…”
“He shall be called Immanuel, God with us…”
“For God so loved the world that he sent his one and only Son…”
And we sigh with relief,
we sing with gusto,
we remember with joy.
This is Christmas Eve – and we’re here!
Thank you for the story that calls us to this place.
Thank you for the Truth that sleeps in the manger.
Thank you for the chance to begin again at the beginning –
In the name of our remarkable Savior we pray together tonight.
Amen.
