December 21st, 2024
Untitled by Ritagail Burleson.
“Arise...and come!”
Twice our Lord says this in the first of today’s readings.
I’ve heard this invitation in my heart before and eagerly tried to follow. But my hopes got dashed, trashed. The proverbial “cares of this world” (Matt. 13:22) have left me unable to grow among the thorns of life’s winter of despair.
Just leave me alone.
Go—call my more sunny brethren.
Ever feel this way?
“No, I'm calling y-o-u,” He replies.
This past Thanksgiving Day found me at morning Mass. I dragged myself there to give thanks, at least try to, life has recently thrown some nasty things my way. I had my small sketchbook that I use for shorter midweek Masses so I don’t have to try to fill a big page. An older gentleman sat behind me, would he be one of the people who think my drawing at Mass is disrespectful? Well, if so, I’d just have to deal with his comments. As it turned out, after Mass he looked over my shoulder and gave me an approving comment. I smiled and said “Thank you.”
“Arise...and come...”
Exactly where is it we’re going?
In today’s second reading, Elizabeth says that dear soon-to-live-in-the-wilderness John leapt for joy inside her.
In spite of our weariness, our fears, can we allow the creative gifts God has placed inside us to grow and leap for joy so that God may use them to bear fruit in the wilderness of life? Dare we believe that we can grow something that breaks life’s thorns and “arise” to answer the call to “come”...wherever it is that call leads?
Scared to try again?
So am I.
So—let’s go leap into the outstretched arms of Emmanuel as He waits for us and calls “Arise....Come!”
Ritagail Burleson's creative imagination is busting to get out after retiring from church bulletin editing and other church work. Keep up with her here.