Simeon [built for final worship service from Advent poem]

Picture this:
The promise of God
burning in your heart like a brand:
You will see the one
come to console His people Israel
before you see the end.


Picture this:
Fifty years.
Waiting.


Your family, your friends
move away,
die...
and you wait.
The promise of God
burns in your heart like a brand
at first. But time cools,
and you are alone, and you wait,
and doubt creeps in.
Years tick by, one minute at a time
and the Messiah has not come.
You cling to a trust that fades with every decade.
You begin to feel small
in your empty house
and your prayers turn from "bring my Mashiach"
to "bring my death"
You hear the whispered reply,
"Soon,"
and don't know which prayer
is being answered.

Years.
Doubt.
And still you pray.


One warm night of despair
of lost hope
of betrayal.
The promise of your youth
is a promise unfulfilled
A betrayal
by the God you have served so long,
so faithfully.
You cry out
and He is silent.
You sleep
and the darkness is empty.


Picture this:
You wake
feeling shame at your despair.
You set out for the temple.
You start at a slow walk
(your joints creaking with every step
and the dust kicking up into your lungs)
but soon
a growing sense of urgency.
You cannot run
but you pick up the pace
faster and
faster and


Picture this:
A young couple in the temple
presenting their child to God
redemption in silver
and a sacrifice of two turtledoves

A common event.
And there is nothing extraordinary
in the appearance of the couple
or the baby--
but God whispers in your ear
and you know.


Picture this:
You shock the young parents
take their son in your arms
You are not bothered by his smallness
how he has appeared,
He, the Messiah,
as a tiny, chubby, sleeping baby
You can only marvel
at the faithfulness of your God
and you weep
For your nation,
and for its deliverance,
nestled unobtrusively in your arms.

You weep
and kiss this tiny babe's forehead--
the savior
the Mashiach
you have waited a thousand lifetimes to see.


Picture this:
You sit in your chair
and hear a story you have heard
once a year, every year.
Maybe you yawn once or twice.
Are you bored?
Is this the usual, the ordinary?


Instead, picture this:
You have been waiting all your life
to see the deliverance of your soul
waiting
for something you cannot define.
You wait......
waiting for so long
that you begin to wait
not for deliverance
but for death.


And then
in the moment of your greatest despair,
you see the Messiah, the Christ
this sleeping baby in your arms
and you are filled with wonder
and you weep
with the joy of the prodigal's father
of hope restored
and the promise
of life renewed.