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Dec 13th – 3rd Sunday of Advent – Anna the prophetess

Updated: Dec 15, 2020



I had a choice that day:

Listening to the empathic wailing

Of the women

At my husband’s wake,

Feeling the deadness

In my chest:

Too much grief to express

And so every cell screaming in pain

Where tears were trapped.


A choice:

To live my life in bitterness

Slowly building

Internal prison walls

To keep pain out

But which would only

Embalm it unhealed.


The other:

Instead to seek life;

Lament my pain to God,

Show Him the secret places

Of my heartache

And hope

For His deliverance.


And then one day

Hope came

In a in tiny child

Of impoverished parents

And I knew at last

God was with me.


Poem by Jeannie Kendall, reproduced with permission

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