On what must have been the most spectacular starry night in all of history, a multitude of angels appeared to a handful of humble shepherds and over whelmed them with glory as they proclaimed, " Peace on earth and good will to men." Some thirty years later, Jesus, his eyes fixed on the cross, gathered his disciples for what would be his last instructions to them before his betrayal and ultimately his death. In a quiet, candle-lit upper room he tells them as much as he knows they can bear about what is about to happen, knowing they haven't got a clue at that moment. He concludes it all by saying, "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)
That is not the typical cheerful, baby Jesus, Christmas message we often hear, but sometimes Christmas sucks! Sometimes the holidays are just another horrible and painful reminder that life is hard and full of trouble. I know I am not the only one feeling that way this Chritmas and as I was about to post a picture with those words attached to a simple Facebook post, I realized it was more than a simple post and felt another blog entry coming.
It's Christmas, well really it's Advent. That time on the church calendar after All Saints Day and before Christmas Eve, more or less anyway, I am by no means an expert. The season of advent has always been my favorite because it's also the time of year that we reflect on looking forward to Christ's second coming. Which even before Jake left, was my favorite thing to talk about at church and Bible study. It's a time we reflect on the longing and expectation of God's people before the very first Chritmas and Christ's first advent, coming, and when He will come again at His second advent. It's a season of rich tradition in the church I grew up in with advent wreaths and candles. Chrismon's on the tree at church and weekly soup suppers before mid-week Advent service. Also my favorite Christmas song, "O Come, O Come Emmanuel." I have beautiful, rich memories of singing it over the years, in both public and private worship.
Susan and I were talking the other day and joking or rather trying to make light of the aweful circumstances of the last year for each of us. She joked that perhaps she somehow missed Joseph's personal instructions for storing up provisions in their 7 years of plenty for their now mid seven years of lean ( Genesis 41-43) and I joked that I felt as if I was enduring my own personal desert exile (Exodus 15-Joshua 3). We joke and make light, but it truely has been aweful. I would really like to be able to write about it more. Writing helps, blogging helps a lot. It makes a difference knowing that my story is helping other people and touching other people's lives. It helps me too, to read other people's stories because in their struggle I know I am not alone.
The last 48 hours have been a nightmare, but I can't tell you why. I live in a suburb of Houston that occupies a sliver of land bordered on two sides by a river, feeding into a lake that creates a natural boundary. We have 2 main roads in and out connecting to the highway the creates the third side of our community. Most people who live here joke that we live in a little bubble. If you don't know someone, you probably know someone who does. It's a small town! After being a part of the community for more than 16 years now, it feels even smaller. That was a beautiful gift in the days immmeditely following Jake's death. The rally of support from the community was amazing! That being said it makes it impossible for me to write about some of the more personal events in our lives. I don't have the protection of aminimity. The last 48 hours have been pretty bad, but for the sake of those involved I remain silent on the details. I know, however, that I am not alone because in the last month alone, I have seen various other people in my life experience job-loss, miscarriage, a marriage coming to an end, the death of a 6-week old baby to SIDS, car accidents, personal failures, the anniversaries of death, illness and hospital admissions...I'm sure the list could go on.
Honestly, I would like nothing more than to lay in bed, with the covers over my head until it all goes away. I was bearly holding it all together just dealing with this being the first Christmas without Jake and the first anniversary looming so close. So once again I find myself crying out, "how am I suppose to do this!?!" Along with a string of other not so nice words...
And so I hear again, " in this world you will have trouble..." To be perfectly honest I'd really like to say, could I please check that one off the list of lessons learned, God? Okay! I get it!! Instead I find myself, in the wee hours of the morning, pressing in once again. Trying hard to understand, trying to allow God to work and explain. Trying hard to find something to hang onto...
Once again I find myself staring at the words from John 16:33, but this time my eyes drawn to the beginning of the verse, I somehow missed before. Jesus said, "I have told you these things so that IN ME you may have peace (because) in this world you will have trouble..." And elsewhere in John, I feel God pointing out, "The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life (John12:25). As well the words of John 16:20-22, "...you will weep and mourn...you will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world. So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice and no one will take away you joy."
So I sit and listen as wind and rain batter against my window, seeming to match the storms of my last couple days. Pushing in, an odd peace surrounds me as I hear the voice of my most beloved friend speaking those words personalized for me..."sweet friend, you will weep and mourn; you will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; you know full well and you have seen it with your own eyes, that when her baby is born she forgets immediately the anguish because of her joy at seeing her baby placed on her chest. Her tears of anguish turn at once to tears of joy! And so it is with you: now is the time of your grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice and no one will be able to take away your joy."
And once again my heart swells and I can sing, O Come, O Come Emmanuel
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