The Lord is Nigh

Dear Diary,

I woke up from the sweetest dream—so sweet it almost hurt.

In my dream I was looking out the window, and I could see the old garage out there in the dark morning. Only it wasn’t just a garage anymore. It was like a little Bethlehem, all quiet and holy. And inside, I saw Baby Jesus, so tiny and dear, and angels were close all around Him, like they were keeping Him warm with their wings and their love. Everything felt still, like the whole world was holding its breath for Him.

That dream faded the moment I heard Sister Mary Claire in the other room fixing the fire. I was awake then—truly awake—and I lay still for a second listening to the stove door and the careful little sounds she makes when it’s cold.

I slipped out of bed and went straight to the window—oh, it was so different—no garage, no Baby Jesus, no angels. Just the yard sitting there empty and bleak and cold, like the whole world was gray and still. I felt lonely—the way you do when something beautiful is taken away. 

But then the stove began to crackle, and it felt like the house sighed and said, “Thank you.” And I remembered something Sister says: God gives us little lights, but we still have to walk by faith when it’s dim.

After that, Sister and I read Today’s Meditation: “Prepare ye the Way of the Lord.” The part that stayed with me most was how it said we can’t do this Advent work by ourselves—how we are too weak on our own—and that prayer is a necessary means of sharing in God’s graces.

Sister explained it plainly: Advent isn’t only about getting things ready on the outside. It’s about getting ready on the inside, and the main way we do that is by praying. She reminded me that Jesus prayed before His birth, pleading for the world, and that even then our needs were before Him. That thought made me feel so cared for that I got quiet.

The meditation also talked about silence and recollection. Sister said that when we guard our words and distractions, our hearts get calmer, like a room that’s been straightened up. And then prayer becomes easier—not always easy, but easier to return to.

All day I kept remembering that moment at the window—how the outside looked empty and cold—and it helped me understand why prayer matters. If the world looks bleak, it doesn’t mean Jesus isn’t near. It means I must keep preparing, quietly and faithfully, so He can come close.

Kathy’s Resolution

Today I will prepare for Jesus by fervent prayer and more silence, even when I feel cold inside or distracted.

Spiritual Bouquet

“The Lord is nigh.”

Love, Kathy