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Day 10 of Deb’s Advent Calendar.

A weeping prophet. Well-acquainted with accusations. He was only 17. He had inner turmoil. He had no comfort, he was lonely, and discouraged. He preached for 40 years without success. He didn’t choose his work, he struggled, he even tried to get out of it. This was Jeremiah.

And yet, “His word is in my heart,” he said, “like a fire, fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in, indeed I cannot.” Jeremiah, the depressed saint, had a longing within. To trust.

And there are long lonely roads to be traveled. To trust. And although not alone, you sure feel alone. You have to learn it’s impossible to duck all the daggers on this road. They pierce, you bleed. Pressure. Place pressure on a wound we are told. Pressure of the nail pierced hand? Won’t the blood spill out?

There are holes in His hands. We don’t believe He can stop the bleeding. We stop believing, or never start. But alone and accused, with those around us turning away, we secretly, silently wonder, ‘Why have you forsaken me?’ Until then, are we even able to begin to experience His touch? Holes and all? Will we go there? Or will we say, ‘No thank you. I’ll pass on that.’

And yet, a heart burns within. His words planted there, deep within the soil of the soul. Through this longing, we come to learn, to wait. Through the lonely when nothing is being revealed. Lost and without guidance. The only assignment: trust. Trust. A weighty task. A lonely walk.

And yet, it’s only with someone who loves and understands that it becomes possible to wait through the lonely together. Sitting at her bedside in silence. Waiting together for news, for answers, for healing. It’s here in the lonely that true friendship is proven. Would we, could we, will we, wait through the lonely to come to realize we are with Him? He is here among us?

Patience. Silence. Peace…In the silence the trees stand exposed and you can hear the howl of the wind through the sinews and tendons extending skyward. Air icy, breath crystallized, swirls of mist twirl like smoke. There is movement. Winter’s silver sky is upon us. Soon it will toss down its majestic blankets. Snow is predicted tonight.

The branches will be adorned and glistening with rays of glory. We will wake together in a land of wintry wonder robed in light. Each thread glowing, connecting us to heaven, the sun rising, bringing healing in its rays.

The Sun. Look! See His signs, His wonders to establish His name among us!

Immanuel!

(Scripture inspired. Jeremiah 20:1-9.)

Parts of this post, entitled Immanuel, were originally published on December 10, 2016.

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