Apologies for the lateness of this post--this season is always full of activity and movement. But I thought Christmas Day would be a good time to slip in the beautiful reading that Kim Lilley shared last Sunday. If I hear back from some of our previous readers (Raine, I'm looking at you!), I'll post them in the coming weeks.
Without further ado, here is Kim's piece:
The Rhythms of Life and Death
by Kim Lilley
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot.
-Ecclesiastes 3:1-2
Winter is upon us. The fallen leaves crunch beneath my feet. The sun hangs low and slides golden rays across the tips of tree that look like they are on fire against the blue gray December skies. This is the rhythm of our earth. This is the rhythm of our lives.
Winter gives us the sacred gift of rest. We are forced into our homes early as the sun sets sooner. We are forced into darkness and quiet as the birds stop their chirping and the moon climbs higher. The earth grows quiet and dim. The trees do not bud, the flowers do not bloom, but they are getting ready to. Gentle, expectant, hopeful- winter whispers of longings fulfilled. A longing fulfilled is a tree of life. We long, we groan, we wait through the winter and a green, swaying, glorious, limbs-reaching-to-heaven tree is delivered. Winter bequeaths our earth life in it’s death.
And in the same way there was a man who bequeathed us life in his death. A baby born to be sacrificed. Birth and death intermingling before a single human could perceive this great mystery coming to us. This story that would become life for us. This death that would mean salvation. And in the same way when we choose life in this man, we choose death to ourselves.
This is the rhythm of our earth. This is the rhythm of our lives- until one day the second advent interrupts us from our sleep, our quiet, our waiting, our winter and brings us home forever.
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