Modern Day Prophet

This year, in an effort to lean in to the call of the Advent season, to really prepare my heart for the coming of the Lord, I am taking a blogging break. I hope you enjoy my reflections from last year.

This December has been unreasonably unseasonably warm. I was sitting on the porch discussing my grandfather, the life he led, the ways we will miss him, with my sister when dusk came. I was surprised it was getting so dark so fast. The weather tells me it is early September. The sunset has other plans. I went inside a little disoriented and looked at the clock on the microwave. Surely I missed bed time…nope, just that time of year. Simply not enough light in the day.


When the term “modern-day prophet” crept into my thoughts so did the sounds of the street-preachers I have become familiar with. First there was the guy my dad was friends with. Brother Richard used to pray for healing over the phone if he called the house and we answered, sick from school. I don’t remember meeting him, but I do remember his voice, soft and rich in my ear. My dad used to say you could see the remnants of the glory of the Lord on his head.

The street-preacher I have the strongest memories of is Pastor Neal. He used to stand outside the theatre department and hurl fire and brimstone at the homosexuals and the fornicators just trying to buy a ticket to the university’s next show.  I went to his church once, “The Revolution,” where he preached a beautiful sermon filled with the grace and love of our God. I wonder now, why he saved that message for those who already had it, and hurled the condemnation at those who had yet to experience the grace.


The darkness creeps up so quickly these days. It is enough to disorient me, the darkness of this world. But the Prophet’s job is to shout into the darkness, light a candle in the abyss of the night, promise that dawn is coming, and point to the light that is already breaking in. It is hard and lonely in this wilderness, and sometimes I need to be reminded that what I proclaim matters.

If I pray every Sunday “on earth as it is in heaven” if I believe that God has more for this world than what we’ve already got, then I am a prophet of hope. As the advent season continues and I lean into the waiting, I don’t want to wait silently in the dark. I want to point to the dawn, the promise of light to come.

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