Pierce me through

I hear the wind, Lord.

Is that You,

Blowing hard and furious?

Or perhaps you are in the rain

As it pelts against my window,

Trying to find a way in.

Am I shutting You out?

I’m trying to be open to You

As I sit in silence,

Hands cupped.

Yet it feels like You are at a distance,

Out beyond my closed window.

What window in my soul

Do I need to open

To let You in?

Or are You already here,

But silent,


You promised to be Emmanuel,

God with us.

So I look around for You once more.


The heater sits inside my room,

Radiating warmth,

Slowly suffusing the air I exist within.

But it sits external,

Doing little to warm me.

The light from the sun,

Filtered by grey clouds

(Did I put those between us?),

Softly steals into my room,

And is rebounded off pale walls,

Bouncing around the room,

Picking up speed,

Until it pierces me,

Strikes me through with Your presence,

Juddering the marrow in my bones,

Awakening my spirit.


And this space looks new.


I hear Your fierce love,

Your yearning for justice

And the world’s redemption

In the howling wind.

The drumming rain

Speaks of Your insistent longing

For us,

Of the way You stand,

Knocking at our hearts,

Asking to be let in

More and more.

Your presence

Thrums in the air around me,

Radiating Your hope,

Stirring atoms into motion,

Shifting cold death

Into new life.

And this light

Flooding my space,

Piercing me through,

Sends echoes of You

Through all things.


Wake up, sleeper,


Emmanuel is here.


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