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Letting grace in, whether we're prepared on not.
The Rev. Ann Bonner-Stewart, Chaplain

Once, while I was visiting in the United Kingdom, I met someone who was kind enough to invite me into her home for a cup of tea. Her house was not... orderly, shall we say. Piles of papers and stacks of dishes were everywhere. The chaos did not faze my host in the least. She cleared a spot on the couch for me, and we had a lovely conversation. Though she wasn't what I would describe as ready, though she wasn't prepared by my definition, she let me in anyhow.

Earlier this month, I wrote to our parents about preparation in general and particularly during the Advent season. But you know what? Sometimes whatever we've been preparing for comes, and we're not quite ready yet.

The cards haven't been sent. We realize that unless we find a way to violate the space-time continuum, we won't make it to all the social gatherings we wanted to or felt obligated to attend. The gift for so-and-so feels a little off. We haven't been making space in our inner selves, whether we observe Hanukkah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, or some combination thereof.

Please know that if any of the above statements describe you, you are not alone. At one time or another, many of these sentences could certainly describe me! Just as importantly, please know that grace may be extended even if—or maybe particularly when—we do not think ourselves ready.

I really like this prayer from the Night Prayer service from our Anglican sisters and brothers on the other side of the world in New Zealand, where my sister and nieces happen to live. It's a beautiful year-round prayer, and I find it particularly useful during the time of year when the nights are long and the days are short:

Lord, it is night.

The night is for stillness. Let us be still in the presence of God.

It is night after a long day. What has been done has been done; what has not been done has not been done; let it be.

The night is dark. Let our fears of the darkness of the world and of our own lives rest in you.

The night is quiet. Let the quietness of your peace enfold us, all dear to us, all who have no peace.

The night heralds the dawn. Let us look expectantly to a new day, new joys, new possibilities.

In your name we pray. Amen.

The New Zealand Prayer Book (p. 184)

What would happen if we let grace in this Christmas, whether or not we feel prepared?

In peace,

The Reverend Ann Bonner-Stewart
Saint Mary's School Chaplain