Come, Lord Jesus!

All of us are waiting for the Shepherd of the hills to come down with his provision of bread and water, and oil for our burned out lamps and our wounds. And when he has returned, we will see unknown worlds in each other’s eyes; the sterile fig tree at the foot of the ravine will bear sweet fruit; the Shepherd will sound his rustic flute and the world will become quiet. The light will battle with the shadows and will conquer them. God will be a breeze on summer evenings.

Harvest time will definitely come: time for grape picking, wedding and dancing. Cages will be opened, chains will be broken, swords will rust and only plows in vast fields will remain. And childhood will return to our eyes forever in order to let us contemplate the Father clothing the daisies of the fields and feeding the sparrows at the patio.

Come, Lord Jesus!

From the book The poor one of Nazareth by Fr. Ignacio Larrañaga