Sometimes PEACE Sounds Like HOPE in the Fog

Letters from Light, Advent Poems

Advent Confession: I’m still waiting for this week to go as planned.

I woke up Monday with a headache that got worse throughout the day. Yesterday I woke up to find my voice almost completely gone. This was exceptionally frustrating as last night was the Advent Poetry event my friend and I have been preparing for.

I’ve developed a pretty steady and predictable rhythm for Wednesdays at the Well. Generating ideas, planning themes, topics, and series in advance, while also leaving room for creative spontaneity. Most weeks, on Monday morning I sit down to polish up the draft of that week’s reflection. And then on Tuesday it gets a final edit before being uploaded to Substack.

This week has not fit the mold.
Maybe you can relate? Exhaustion. Sickness. Overwhelm.

I sat with PEACE listening deeply waiting for their candle to speak. Or maybe they were speaking waiting for me to deeply listen.

The poem for PEACE did not take shape like I imagined.

I was drawn back to a poem I wrote a few years ago during Advent. I’d forgotten about it, but as I began reading remembered exactly when it was written. A time of intense waiting and endless uncertainty. Desperate for PEACE, I went on a walk with HOPE.

I shared that poem last night as part of Advent Poetry with the little voice I had left. And share again here today. Just the words for you to read.

Sometimes PEACE sounds like HOPE in the Fog.

Expectantly Yours,
Rebecca & 10CAMELS

---

Hope in the Fog
©Rebecca Wilson

it’s nearly noon
   a heavy morning fog still lingers

hope and I went walking
passionately talking 
even though we cannot see one another 
connected by a candle lit generations ago
by people whose lives shine on
   in stars we do not know

we cried for illness and disease
sorrow and grief
pain and suffering
weariness and resignation
endless war
anger, revenge, and evil raging
the fragility of pauses
the unceasing of fires
the unwavering support of causes
   that cause the death of us all

we spoke of healing and brighter days
nights of holy calm and silence
gentler, tender ways
comfort, peace, and solace
compassion and caring
an abundant awareness of our collective resources
and everyone freely sharing 
a refusal to trade more eyes for eyes
bombs for bombs 
no longer supplying allies
nor enemies with ammunition 
or sitting idly by as guns are sharpened
more sharply into idolatrous weapons
a renewed commitment to a beloved future
for all creation’s children

we whispered prayers
to god of many names 
to faith of many faces 
for a world where we are
unable to even consider
unwilling to reach to the ones
journeying beside us
for all the things we wait upon
wonder about
question and doubt
long for and fear 

it’s noon now
  the mourning fog has not yet lifted here
I’m eager to get back home
hope invites me to keep on going

Invitation to Reflection

• When has PEACE sounded like HOPE?

• Where do PEACE and HOPE intersect?

  • How do they differ? Do they differ?

• When things don’t go as planned how are you offering yourself compassion?