I had a scribbled collection of cross-referenced notes that could have gone on for days. I could not believe that I was able to pull it all together in time. BUT THEN! Of course, my printer was out of ink. So my computer and myself went to the advent service. Everything all worked out in time thank God. Below is the passage and the poem. Please feel free to comment and give me input.
Advent Dec. 19th COTA
Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, "Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins." All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:
"Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
and they shall name him Emmanuel,"
which means, "God is with us." When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.
By Ieisha McIntyre
We are all players in dreams
of our own creation.
in our limited human perception,
spun from our limited expectations,
through social condition.
We walk through our mutually sustained worlds
holding up the walls
with our bias.
Prejudice as our mortar,
we maintain the integrity,
Use tradition, and historical context as our decorative plaster.
But they are just walls
and we are still dreamers.
Dreamer, know this,
When kissed by the call to awaken --
The vision that is life can become
a seeming nightmare;
a conflicting reality that tortures
a mind desirous
of a status quo existence.
A call that insists we
Release the dreams we clutch to,
cling to, blind ourselves with;
In resistance, we stop up the passages of our ears,
Barricade the doors of our imagination
with the expectations of others--
All, to deny ourselves the call.
Of course we question -- But,
The reality may be a hurdle worth jumping.
The storm a torrent worth braving.
We must open our eyes to see.
Yet, A dreamer interrupted can never return
to the previous pulse--
there is always the arrhythmia
of an interrupted dream.
Forced slumber makes convict
those with outmoded dreams.
Trained expectations become chains;
Rules of thought the inquisitor.
We fear, we cringe and
cower at the freedom given to us.
We see awakening as the prison.
We realize we have been people in a dream.
And we listen to the call -- suspicious.
The choice is ever present; And, should we choose
beyond the walls and
act on faith.
One must trust in the unseen--
the undreamed of--
trust that the new reality will not release upon
the dreamer an unmanageable hell.
The Word invites awakening.
-- to experience divine interruption,
to have our dream world invaded and gifted
with new life direction.
The new direction is more than we could ever dream,
The invitation is there in The Word.
And, the Choice
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