The people of God waited a long, long time for the birth of the Messiah; Advent - the time of awaiting and preparing for the coming - lasted hundreds of years rather than our four weeks.  During those long, long passages of time, people we now call Prophets appeared now and again with words of hope and encouragement that delivered a simple message: God has not forgotten his promise and is with you as you walk in faith.

A favorite of these prophet is Ezekiel and I was thinking of a promises he proclaimed: "I will give you a new heart and put a new Spirit in you: I will removed from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh."  Ez:36:26

Well, that's a prophecy that sounds rather extreme: heart of stone becoming heart of flesh!  Yet one reason I love this passage is I have experienced it's promise personally - there was a time in my life when my heart was indeed inflexible with disappointments and resentments, where bitterness and cynicism caused bouts of despair and rage.  I was very unhappy living with a heart that was in part, rigid and hard.

What changed my life was really very simple action.  At one of my lowest points of living I was given the instruction to find some space in my day for stillness and quiet.  Because of a lot of factors, the only regular space I was able to create was to set the alarm for 30 minutes earlier than normal and then sit on the patio in the stillness and quiet of a new day, sipping my coffee and watching as light crept through the darkness of night.

What began as following an instruction twenty-five years ago became a practice that remains the foundation of my spiritual life.  Why do I refer to sipping coffee in the stillness of morning while the sun rises, a spiritual practice? The picture I chose for this post is of water flowing over rocks illustrates the answer to this question: water flowing regularly over hard rock wears away edges and slowly but irrevocably smooths and reforms the rock.

Sitting in my chair as light crept through darkness each morning, the awareness of life as gift slowly took form in my heart.  Unbeknownst to me at the time, I was putting myself in the position of allowing God's grace to flow around me and through me: slowly but surely, not only did my heart begin to soften, but my eyes began to perceive the day differently: I was being gifted with both eyes of wonder and a heart of flesh.

My mother taught me that a gift has not truly been received until acknowledgment with thank you is given (preferably in the form of handwriting) and I am deeply grateful for this basic lesson of living. As my awareness of life as gift came alive in my eyes and heart, I knew it was necessary to give thanks: 'thank you for today; for the life you have given me; for the people you surround me with; thank you for providing all I need in this day." Those were the words of prayer that sprang from my heart all those decades ago - words I still begin my day saying.

Advent is the season calling us to begin anew as we walk in faith.  Advent reminds us that whether the previous year was difficult with trials and tribulations or a relatively easy span of time, God's grace flows ceaselessly and we have the opportunity to receive love with a new heart each day. God though is not only gracious, God is very polite: it is up to us as to whether or not we will choose to act in a way as to receive the grace of love being offered.

Thinking on new beginnings I am reminded of another prophet of Advent, Isaiah. "Do not consider the former things or consider the things of old.  I am about to do a new thing: now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?"   May you have eyes of wonder to perceive new life growing and softening your heart.