Grace and Peace to you.
You may seek a place in this day of acquisitive frenzy
but it will not be home.
There is room for you in a Blacker Friday,
a day of more profound darkness and brighter stars,
of shorter lists and deeper desires,
where there is something not checked off the list,
something you are still waiting for,
something you can’t buy but can only be given,
which, if it is for you, is for everybody,
not a one-day offer but an eternal promise,
waiting for you, not disappearing off shelves
but gestating, ripening toward you from the future,
from the heart of God, from within us all.
The only doorbuster is one that set you free long ago.
There are no long lines here, no rush,
but solitude and silence and a purposeful slowing,
and the deepening of your longings.
There are throngs—find your place among them—
who sit and wait, who know each other by their songs,
exiles bound by a memory that weaves all geography,
prisoners waiting, dreamers who dare to yearn
for what others have abandoned
for the love of good deals and shiny things.
Sit in stillness and wait with them,
cry out and march with them, work quietly with them.
Perfect your hope for the Advent of the Loving One,
the light that spills from divine hands,
the new world that blossoms where we live.
Enter the breathing darkness, live in the hoping world,
let your eyes be opened.
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