Transformation

A Reflection on the First Reading for Sunday, December 14th, 2025:
Third Sunday of Advent

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Isaiah
​35.1-6a, 10

​The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad,
the desert shall rejoice and blossom;
like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly,
and rejoice with joy and singing.
The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it,
the majesty of Carmel and Sharon.
They shall see the glory of the Lord,
the majesty of our God.

Strengthen the weak hands,
and make firm the feeble knees.
Say to those who are of a fearful heart,
“Be strong, do not fear!
Here is your God.
He will come with vengeance,
with terrible recompense.
He will come and save you.”

Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,
and the ears of the deaf unstopped;
then the lame shall leap like a deer,
and the tongue of the mute sing for joy.

And the ransomed of the Lord shall return,
and come to Zion with singing;
everlasting joy shall be upon their heads;
they shall obtain joy and gladness,
and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

​Pause. Pray. Reflect.

I flew through life half-asleep,
oblivious to eternity.

A battle within my heart,
where Evil claimed more territory
in the places that were once whole.

Abominable flags were raised,
propped up by my worldly remedies.
Toxic patchwork was all I knew
to escape the misery.
Sometimes I would feel
rays of light on my face,
but never long enough to appreciate
their sweet song of hope.

The monsters dug their claws deeper within.
“Pathetic,” they sneered. “There’s no escaping this.”
“There’s no hope for me,”
I repeated in twisted unison with them,
“I may as well stop trying.”
Yet there remained a small part
never yielding to the dark.
With outstretched hands
I cried out into the universe’s vast expanse:
“Is anybody out there?
I’ve met my end.
I can’t go on.”
From the other side,
a familiar voice rang back to me in reply.
“My daughter,
I never left you.”
How precious these hearts must be,
if a war for them rages across the centuries.
From the cross, a promise of transformation
reverberates across time,
a free gift for generations,
beckoning every soul to bloom once again.



​Vanessa Noujaim

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