Headline - Tuesday.

Israel Buries Mumbai Dead.

Unsettled.

I remain in a space of feeling unsettled. I'm working to be okay with that, but am having a harder time than usual tonight.

I remain in a space of fasting and praying, waiting and watching.

I remain strangely attracted to the scents of the burial spices that the wise men brought as gifts to the baby Jesus. To frankincense and myrrh. I burn them in my home, cover my skin with lotion scented with them, and today I wore oil of myrrh as my perfume.

How can a season of death also be one of birth?

And what does it all mean?

I found a website with daily scripture readings for advent. This was tonight's:

Mark 13
33 Take heed, watch; for you do not know when the time will come.
34 It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his servants in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch.
35 Watch therefore--for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or in the morning--
36 lest he come suddenly and find you asleep.
37 And what I say to you I say to all: Watch."


And so, I wait and watch and fast and pray, and hope and dream, and try to trust that eventually the unsettledness will pass, and the season will change, and rest and peace and healing will be fully and deeply restored to so many whom I love.