Advent Day 14: December 15th
What More Could I Want?
The grave sits at the back of an old cemetery, its headstone marked by mildew and trailing vines. I have no idea who she was, but I know her engraving by heart. Her name is Miriam Julia. She lived for fifteen years, and the words written in script on her marker have become a prayer for me: I conclude that I am God's. What more could I want? No matter how many times I stand and read the lines, many times over the years, the message still commands my attention: I am God's. What more is there? What more could I want?
I allow this prayer to merge with images of the upcoming holiday season: the extravagance of food and drink, the rituals, the traditions (some kept just for the sake of keeping them). Eventually the sweep of noise and activity drowns out a larger sense of things, and I'm again left with the guilty remembrance that this season heralds something I still do not fully acknowledge with my life.
How many Christmases will I celebrate before something much greater informs my daily journey with consistency? How many times will I kneel in front of a creche before I can move past the Christmas story and bend to the awareness that the Divine invaded matter -- and labors and struggles, still, to bring greater consciousness to bear? Every life experience is only a way to touch this greater love.
by Paula D'Arcy, Redbird Foundation
from the book: Daybreaks