Pregnant with Peace

The peace of the earth be with you,
the peace of the heavens too;
the peace of the rivers be with you,
the peace of the oceans too.
Deep peace falling over you;
God's peace growing in you.

If you are in Auburn this night, and you happen to walk out of doors, you will fall in love with the sky, too. I just know it. Dark, dark velvet, yard upon yard of fine velvet; pinpricks of a million stars blinking down stillness; your breath creating the only not-black in the expanse. You will stand still, resisting the shaking and shivering that tempt your not-quite-dressed-for-the-weather body. You will look up. And up. And up. And not get to the top of up. And you will feel the pull of a tide of peace on your body; the earth and heavens long for peace; your own longing answers.

And as peace falls on you, you will realize: the Advent season offers a chance, maybe the only one in a frantic time, to wait with peace. And on this night, you will wait like Mary. You, too, are pregnant with peace.