Unassembled

 Friday of the Second Week of Advent

You have not shut me up in the power of the enemy;
you have set my feet in an open place.
Psalm 31:8

I want to whisper this confession hoping no one will notice. I set up my Advent wreath only recently, well into the second week. I had all the materials ahead of time. The hand-dipped candles, three purple, one rose. The base our oldest handcrafted for us. Greens, including holly, readily available a few steps from my front door. 

We sat down for meals and prayed while the pieces lay unassembled on a side table.

Unassembled. This is how I often feel these days. All my parts seem to be here: mind, soul, priestly craft, aging body, vision. Yet I cannot seem to get them all to work together at the same time. 

But perhaps unassembled also means ready. Ready for the holy one to make of me what she will.