Father in Heaven,
May we move slowly in this Advent season
And in a countercultural cadence
Trust that the One we wait for
Is the One we wait with.

Glory be to God for Dirt—

For backyard soil
as dark and dense
as the midnight sky.
And for all the creatures
who make this ground
their earthy home—
the wiggly ones
and leggy ones
and the tiny ones
our eyes can’t see.

Father in Heaven,
Thank You for longer days;
When light arrives early, shines brightly,
And after amber sunsets, slowly leaves late.