When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the infant leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, cried out in a loud voice and said, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And how does this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the infant in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled.” –-Luke 1:39-45
Behold, my love comes o'er the hills as softly as the deer steps forth, as sweetly as the trickling rills come bless the winter-laden earth.
As yet he hides behind the wall, but love is coming to the door to bring me to his banquet hall— So comes the mother of my Lord.
And now I hear the true dove's voice that says the winter days are past, and this within me leaps for joy to recognize its spring at last.
Who am I, that this love should come when God has done such things for me? And she who said,“Let it be done,” oh, blest is she who has believed!
And now he grows within her womb. The barren fig tree puts forth buds; the desert wakes and greens and blooms when he tells me, “Arise, my love!”
These leaves survive from what must have been an extraordinarily rich book of hours. Stylistically, the illuminations relate to the workshop of Henri d’Orquevaulx, a documented Metz manuscript painter. Little is known about d’Orquevaulx’s life or career. Compositionally, structurally, and stylistically, the miniatures suggest strong links to Netherlandish illumination. By Henri d’Orquevaulx – https://clevelandart.org/art/2003.172, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=77719154
When Christ came into the world, he said: “Sacrifice and offering you did not desire, but a body you prepared for me; in holocausts and sin offerings you took no delight. Then I said, ‘As is written of me in the scroll, behold, I come to do your will, O God.’“ —Hebrews 10:5-10
You promised once and once again to send to us a son, and never, never mentioned when but let the moments run.
And into hours and into days they run and still run on, and into nights whose sleepless gaze still waits to see the dawn.
Then into months and into years and into age on age, and all the while he's drawing near while yet we flow'r and fade.
How long, O Lord, 'til waiting ends? O, say, when will it be that every bloody sword shall bend and every slave go free?
But even now a form you limn; you weave it thread on thread. A body you prepare for him, to crush the serpent's head.
And now we count the seconds past as once we counted days. How soon he comes—he comes at last! And we shall see his face!
Based on a snippet I found in a book of prayers and poems about Mary, this one by St. John of the Cross, translated by Kathleen Jones:
If you meet the Virgin Coming down the road, Ask her into your house: She bears the Word of God.
If, by chance, you meet the Virgin, heavy-footed on her journey, take her in beneath your roof. Let her rest, and give her shelter though your home's a helter-skelter— See, her time is almost due.
She will come when nothing's ready. Let her get out of the weather— She'll make do with what you've got, lives askew and human frailty, dust on every inch of realty— This shall be the home of God.
Others, then, will come behind her— king and shepherd come to find her— Better leave the porch light on, for it is a light they're seeking, they who've heard the night sky speaking of a new and radiant dawn.
Even now the shepherds wander far from where the burning stars were, far from hillsides shining strange. They have come down through the valleys, searching avenues and alleys for a king in manger laid.
Open doors and bow before him— shepherds, kings, and you adore him as on Mary's breast he sleeps. Where you are, he makes his stable. Where he is, he makes his table: Welcome, welcome to the feast.
Moreover, we possess the prophetic message that is altogether reliable. You will do well to be attentive to it, as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts. —2 Peter 1:19
It sits just below the horizon, steadfast as we're losing the light; what changes the world at its rising now waits for the coming of night.
And we who have waited in darkness and watched as the light fades away, we see even now the first stars out with us keeping vigil for day.
As midnight draws nearer and nearer the shadows grow deeper than deep, but in them we see all the clearer the longing that draws us from sleep
to wait with a hushed expectation that knows every shadow must pass the gleam of the world's restoration, the light breaking on us at last.
And all who have waited to see it cry out with the strength it imparts, “Shine out, holy light, from your zenith! O morning star, rise in our hearts!”
Zion on the heights now rising, see the Christ is drawing near. He will come with fire baptizing, all this threshing floor to clear. Pride and might he comes chastising, yet, belovèd, do not fear: All who bear the world's despising shout for joy when he appears.
Zion on the heights upstanding: Christ is coming; look and see! You who wept as you were planting, now with laughter shall you reap. Peace that passes understanding touches your anxiety; mercy and salvation granting, now he comes to see you free.
Zion on the heights behold him; wake your hearts and see his day. Precipices bow before him; valleys rise to make his way. Leave your falsehood, your extortion; give your hoarded goods away; make your cities ready for him: Now he comes without delay!
For the hungry and the thirsty, for the for the poor and for the meek, for the blind man crying, “Mercy!” saying, “Lord, I want to see,” when the skies rain down a savior, when he gathers east and west, may there be a great high table where the least have all the best.
For the robber robed in splendor, for the beggar at the gate, for the last man in the vineyard, for the bridesmaids coming late, when the bread of heaven's broken, when the saints go marching in, may there be a door left open as the wedding feast begins.
For the desperate and down-hearted, for the captive and the bound, for the ones who dwell in darkness, all those waiting to be found, when the shepherd comes to free them, when the nights gives way to dawn, in the loving arms of Jesus, may we find the light goes on.
And coming to her, he said, “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.” But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his Kingdom there will be no end.” —Luke 1:26-38
Rejoice, O greatly troubled, uncertain and afraid: Though mountains shake to rubble, the Lord is on his way.
Rejoice through every sadness, O highly favored one: Though oceans rise in anguish, yet you shall bear a son.
Now you both trust and tremble and ask how this can be; though David's throne stands empty, his son shall set you free.
Recall the prophets' tellings: Rejoice amid your fear, for God comes to his dwelling and even now draws near.
Rejoice in what was promised; remember what was done. The Lord has not forgotten, and mercy still shall come.
Though now you sit in darkness, for joy you shall yet sing: This shadow now upon you is God the Most High's wings.
For God has commanded that every lofty mountain be made low, and that the age-old depths and gorges be filled to level ground, that Israel may advance secure in the glory of God. The forests and every fragrant kind of tree have overshadowed Israel at God’s command; for God is leading Israel in joy by the light of his glory, with his mercy and justice for company. —Baruch 5:1-9
A voice is crying in the desert: “Make straight the path! Prepare the way, that children may return from exile and those in darkness see the day.
“The frail and foolish shall not falter; the strong shall not oppress the weak, but all come streaming to the altar where kings bow down before the meek.”
But God it was made these rough places, with plumb and line laid out the earth. He comes, remaking this creation, preparing hearts to know his birth.
And lo! The mountains bow to greet him; the valleys rise to offer praise. They know our God has come to meet us, and all the earth shall see his face.
The narrow way grows wide and even and shaded o'er by every tree. No heights now block the way between us; no gorges gape before our feet.
Then let us go along his highway with all who come from east and west. A light is breaking forth to guide us into the pastures of his rest.
Thus says the Lord of hosts: There will yet come peoples and inhabitants of many cities; and the inhabitants of one city will approach those of another, and say, “Come! let us go to implore the favor of the Lord and to seek the Lord of hosts. I too am going.” Many peoples and strong nations will come to seek the Lord of hosts in Jerusalem and to implore the favor of the Lord. —Zechariah 8:20-22
When the cities band together, both the greater and the least, not in league against their brethren but to find the way of peace;
when they study war no longer, even laying down the sword, and as one, both weak and stronger, they go up to seek the Lord;
when they set aside their ambush and dismantle all their traps; when they come with open hands, then, one another's hands to clasp;
when they say, “Come climb the mountain: We will ask God what to do. Let us drink from wisdom's fountain— I myself am going, too!”
it will be the end of all things. All we know will pass away, as the shadows of our small kings disappear into the day.
This old world will burn to ashes; heav'n and earth will be made new and we, too, shall be refashioned— Lord, my God, let it come soon!
Identifier: saitomusashibobe01debe (find matches) Title: Saito Musashi-bo Benkei : tales of the wars of the Gempei, being the story of the lives and adventures of Iyo-no-Kami Minamoto Kuro Yoshitsune and Saito Musashi-bo Benkei the warrior monkYear: 1910 (1910s) Authors: De Benneville, James S. (James Seguin)Subjects: Minamoto, Yoshitsune, 1159-1189Benkei, d. 1189?Publisher: Yokohama : J.S. De BennevilleContributing Library: Harold B. Lee LibraryDigitizing Sponsor: Brigham Young UniversityView Book Page: Book ViewerAbout This Book: Catalog EntryView All Images: All Images From Book Click here to view book online to see this illustration in context in a browseable online version of this book. Text Appearing Before Image:waka besidehim roused him up. Throwing down the halberd heagain drew his sword. One vicious sweep after anothermissed its mark. Benkei fought well. Too near the sideof the bridge, and missing his mark, he sank his sworddeep into the wooden beams. Before he could withdrawit Ushiwaka leaped at him giving him a severe kick in the * A modest eighteen feet. Japanese gates (moti) are lofty structuresof twenty to forty feet or more in height. t Hi no maru gunsen. The frames were of iron: used by highmilitary officers in ancient times (Brinckleys Diet). As to Ushiwakassword, that lie should cling to it is natural. Minamoto Mitsunaka(912-997 A.D.) had two of these famous weapons, forged by a smith inChikuzen, who fasted for a week and then spent seventy days in theforging of the weapons. These were hereditary treasures of the SeiwaGenji, and had names—Higekiru and Hizamaru. So likewise had theother militant family—the Taira. Their weapons were called Kogarasnand Nukemaru. (Ariga) II. p. 3.Text Appearing After Image:BENKEI AND USHIWAKA AT THE QOJO BRIDGE. BENKEI MEETS USHIWAKA-MARU. 331 forehead. Struck in this vital spot Benkei lost his sightand fell to the ground. Ushiwaka picked up the swordand lightly leaped up on the rail, some nine feet high.Oh! you miserable fellow! You wretched fencer!(Benkei writhed at this). You challenge me to get mysword and here I have yours. Shame on you, dressed ina priests robe. Come ! Be off with you ! Try to get atleast a little better set of morals to correspond to yourdress. As for your weapon it is too wretched a thing forme to keep from you, even if I could do such a thing.He examined it; then bending it threw it back to Benkei.Benkei, more ashamed and confused than defeated pickedit up, straightened the weapon in a way, and started totl rust it into the scabbard as if about to make off; butas Ushiwaka sprang down he turned quickly and made aswift slice at him. In a trice Ushiwaka was back on thetop of the bridge rail. This was too much for Benkei.God or tenNote About ImagesPlease note that these images are extracted from scanned page images that may have been digitally enhanced for readability – coloration and appearance of these illustrations may not perfectly resemble the original work.By Internet Archive Book Images – https://www.flickr.com/photos/internetarchivebookimages/14760438876/Source book page: https://archive.org/stream/saitomusashibobe01debe/saitomusashibobe01debe#page/n412/mode/1up, No restrictions, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=41896582
“Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life, and that day catch you by surprise like a trap. For that day will assault everyone who lives on the face of the earth. Be vigilant at all times and pray that you have the strength to escape the tribulations that are imminent and to stand before the Son of Man.” —Luke 21:25-28, 34-36
My eyes will not stay open; I cannot keep awake, but trust what you have spoken that swiftly comes the day
when you will come restoring, come bringing exiles home. I may not be here for it, but I wait, even so.
The memories we carry, old sorrows we still weep like seeds the winter buried, not dead but fast asleep,
with Jesse's stump forgotten yet watered by the dew— all that we lost shall blossom, becoming something new.
The fruit we stole in Eden and Cain's rejected sheaves, their shoots will grow like weeds then into your mercy's feast.
And if I cannot see it, if I am buried deep, yet you will come, Redeemer, to wake me from my sleep.
Kate Bluett 
