Born to set His people free.

Before we had communion in church on Sunday, my pastor said something about Advent being a time to contemplate our brokenness and need of Christ. That's why we receive communion seated in our pews during Advent (and Lent), to provide for a more quiet, inward-looking experience. I received what he said with relief and gratitude that I actually was not feeling particularly broken or empty; in fact, I was rather content and peaceful, though still acknowledging my deep need for Christ's forgiveness and restoration.

Later that afternoon I went with a group to sing Christmas carols at one of the nearby nursing homes, where a few members of our congregation have a regular Sunday afternoon ministry to the nursing home residents.

Now talk about broken... The nursing home literally smelled like a home perm, from the ammonia of stale urine in adult diapers. And there were other, worse, odors. It was just really hard for me to see the people there as... people. Thankfully, my brothers and sisters in Christ, have better eyes and more strength than me, and go in there each week to love and minister to the residents there. They are bringing the love of Jesus to the sick, the lonely, the demented, the forgotten.

The experience left me feeling very petty and small. And yet Jesus comes at Christmas to all of us, even me, to meet us right where we are... broken. He comes to set us free.

I have been re-reading The Allure of Hope by Jan Meyers this week, and she wrote a wonderful prayer (p. 118-119) which was perfect for this situation:

I hope God will tell His story through me.
I hope my hard heart will soften.
I hope His love shows through me in spite of myself.
I hope my life will make a difference in this weary world, bringing refreshment and life to those without it.
I hope to be surprised as God's glory shows up unexpectedly.
I hope to have eyes to see His kindness and His humor.

Amen.