Watch and wait … and you might catch a glimpse

Peter Seal, 4 December 2016

Matthew 3: 1–6

We heard in our gospel reading, ‘Prepare the way, get ready’. How do we do this? By watching and waiting …

It’s Tuesday morning, 7.15, and I’m getting ready to say my prayers, sitting in front of the French windows, quite cold. The curtains are drawn back but it’s still dark outside; a prayer book, Bible, a list of people to pray for and a second cup of tea are at my side.

I want to let you into a secret: sometimes I like to pray with my eyes open, and that’s what I was doing on Tuesday … it was getting lighter all the time, the air was clear, I could see the big lime trees down our road with no leaves on them. The sky looked very big …

I prayed for my family – Julia, Katie and Philip – my eyes still open. I was looking and watching, the world in front of me. I prayed for my Mum who is getting older and not very well … and then about 10 large black birds flew high across the sky, probably crows. They flew from left to right and disappeared out of sight, and then nothing else moved, no more birds …

I watched and waited …

And then I prayed for my Dad, who is also quite elderly now and having trouble walking, as his legs don’t work well … and as I prayed a single rook flew from right to left and disappeared out of sight … and then nothing else moved, no more birds …

I watched and waited …

And then I prayed for my sister-in-law Karen who has Down’s syndrome … and as I prayed another rook, all on its own, flew directly towards me but high in the sky … and then nothing else moved, no more birds …

I watched and waited …

And then I prayed for people who are mentally or physically disabled, and there were no more birds flying anywhere until suddenly one appeared out of nowhere. It came from behind me, high in the sky, flying very fast, and out of sight … and then nothing else moved, no more birds …

I watched and waited …

And then I prayed for Bishop Tim … there were no birds in the sky, and then I spotted another big black one in one of the lime trees, sitting on a branch … and the bird stayed there, completely still, just sitting in the cold morning air.

I watched and waited …

And then I prayed for my day, and for all of you, wherever you might be, whatever you might be doing, especially that you might be kept safe; and I couldn’t see any more birds flying in the sky anywhere …

I watched and waited …

And then I looked down through one of the lower panes of glass in the French door and there, at the foot of the step, was a black bird really quite close to me and busy searching in the leaves, probably looking for food on a cold November morning …

All this got me thinking: Advent is about watching and waiting and being surprised by normal, natural, lovely things like birds. They helped me to pray.

And then I remembered something I read about prayer being like bird-watching. That’s why I’ve got these binoculars. Bird-watchers have to keep still and quiet, and be very patient, staying in one place and watching carefully with sharp eyes, not sure what’s going to happen, not knowing whether they might catch a glimpse of the rarest bird there is, or see nothing at all. Prayer is like that sometimes. We watch and wait and nothing seems to be happening, and then we get a real sense of God being close.

Like bird-watchers, the more time we spend watching and waiting, the more chance there is we will see signs of God in our world and sense his presence very close to us.