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During a holiday
concert a quartet of strings filled twilight with Immanuel’s notes and my soul
heard heaven, “this is a year of Immanuel”
Immanuel,
God is with us
On the third of this
new-year our Dearly Loved Grandma lived her last, hers was a life lived well,
blessed and full, yet is there a blessing in the bitter sting of death?
Immanuel,
She is with God.
Immanuel,
God is with us.
Work weeks alone
filled months with months still stretching ahead and the lonely crept in. A
crippling ache. And my mantra became Immanuel,
Immanuel, Immanuel here! Immanuel
now! God is here, God is now.
Lonely weighed heavy after holidays filled with family and I kept whispering it
Immanuel, Immanuel, Immanuel.
I was breathing my Immanuel
prayer when the phone rang and the familiar voice of my distant love filled
that lonely with a story laced, tied up with Divine grace, an overbooking
mistake made by his company, No Room at the Inn, and my heart beats
wild and fast, he’s coming home for a month, maybe more!
Immanuel,
God is with me!
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Today snow falls, stifling
the noise of the world and an early morning link fills my home with Immanuel.
Beauty in Immanuel
God is with me.
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He is with me in death,
during the desperate lonely, heart aches, while snow is draped in silence, as
quartet strings out beauty,
He is with me
Immanuel
~
Because when it is all set and done, the
last word is
Immanuel
God With Us
Isaiah 8:10
~
