God With Us

Women of NE,

You are invited to be our contributors this month as we consider and connect through the following question:

How are you experiencing Jesus as Emmanuel, “God with us” this advent season?

Reply to this post and share: words/memoir, a journalistic photo, a photo of something you’ve created, a poem, a link to a favorite song, or a tradition that points you/your family to Emmanuel. Your creativity is not limited to this list; it is just a start.

Our prayer is that this space would be one in which we know each other more fully and we honor Jesus our King.

2017-01-12T10:49:35+00:00 December 11th, 2016|Advent|3 Comments
  • Cherith Cassady Harber

    I can never separate the cross from Advent in my mind. The two go together to make sense to me. Here is a song about unwrapping the gift of Jesus in every day ways, and knowing how pursued I am by the King, if I had eyes to see:

    I find you in the space between your mercy and my suffering
    There’s beauty to be found if I had eyes to see
    I find you in the painful day
    Peace overtakes my circumstance
    Your heart speaks softly to mine

    Your love changed my name from despair to delight
    You bring me to rest and you finish my fight
    Heaven comes down to find me where I am
    Your light moves in and shatters my dark
    Your heart poured out, now you bear the mark of my rebellion
    You never stop coming for me
    If I had eyes to see
    If I had eyes to see

    I find you in the laughter
    And hope remains thereafter all the light is gone
    If I had eyes to see
    I find you in the darkest night where your justice pains to make things right
    All the years are wiped away

    There’s no place I could go away from your presence Lord
    On my knees before your throne to know and be known

  • Jess Gensic

    I recently came across the following poem for the first time. I love free-verse poetry and this one captured my attention by bringing grace-filled conviction and quiet yearning to turn toward Jesus, Emmanuel. The newborn baby comes to show us a different way, a way of redemption and of newness that is undeserved and desperately needed. So, steal a few quiet moments with me to read and reflect and “turn our eyes toward the baby.”

    The Christ Child is about to be born,

    the one promised by the angel.

    Mary’s “fullness of time” has arrived.

    Except that the birth is scheduled

    according to the emperor:

    A decree went out that all should be numbered.

    Caesar decreed a census, everyone counted;

    Caesar intended to have up-to-date data for the tax rolls;

    Caesar intended to have current lists of draft eligibility;

    Caesar intended taxes to support armies,

    because the emperor, in whatever era,

    is always about money and power,

    about power and force,

    about force and control,

    and eventually violence.

    And while we wait for the Christ Child,

    we are enthralled by the things of Caesar–

    money . . . power . . . control,

    and all the well-being that comes from

    such control, even if it requires a little violence.

    But in the midst of the decree

    will come this long-expected Jesus,

    innocent, vulnerable,

    full of grace and truth,

    grace and not power,

    truth and not money,

    mercy and not control.

    We also dwell in the land of Caesar;

    we pray for the gift of your spirit,

    that we may loosen our grip on the things of Caesar,

    that we may turn our eyes toward the baby,

    our ears toward the newness,

    our hearts toward the gentleness,

    our power and money and control

    toward your new governance.

    We crave the newness.

    And while the decree of the emperor

    rings in our ears with such authority,

    give us newness that we may start again

    at the beginning,

    that the innocence of the baby may

    intrude upon our ambiguity,

    that the vulnerability of the child may

    veto our lust for control,

    that we may be filled with wonder

    and so less of anxiety,

    in the blessed name of the baby we pray.

    By Walter Brueggemann in Prayers for a Privileged People

    • Cherith Cassady Harber

      I love the last line, beautiful