Comfort & Joy
God had been silent for 400 years. 400 years. I feel isolated and dejected if haven’t encountered Him in a couple days, the very idea of silence for that length of time breaks my heart. For those who knew and waited, when they heard the stirrings that something was happening…can you even imagine what their hearts felt? And then, when it happened…when God’s own Son was born. The HOPE. The thrill of HOPE, the weary world REJOICES. Things we take so much for granted because we’ve always known those beautiful carols, the scriptures have been read to us since we could sit still.
I find myself trying to explain this to my fourth grade Sunday School classes each year. Each time, my heart gets very stirred when sharing this…and they look at me like I’m crazy. One day, I hope that they understand.
This is the place I come from as I write. Sitting and pondering. A heart full of joy and hope, but all the good tinged with a little bleak. Focusing on the hope, but understanding the sense of silence.
The Christmas season forces reflection. We take the same pictures, see the same people, do the same things, eat the same foods. All the tradition and same brings clarity to all the changes that have transpired. The children aren’t babies anymore (they might even be heading to college, oh my); we realize that we don’t see the same people because friendships have changed, or we have lost those we loved, and, oh, the stab to the heart. Transitions to our traditions. Not all bad things in the least, but CHANGE. Change can be hard, or at least requires us to recognize the change – to be thankful, heartbroken, hopeful.
A couple of weeks ago with the current fourth grade Sunday School class, we were talking about peace, our theme for the month. Part of our time was spent sharing the best thing they could remember happening at Christmastime, and, if they wanted to share, a not so happy thing that happened at Christmastime. The children participated well and reflected – it was a fun and sweet time. As often is the case, by the end of our lesson, the Lord had shown me so much. Before we dismissed the class, I was stirred to share my happiest and saddest Christmas memories – which happened to be bundled into one season.
My father died on December 23rd. We knew it was coming, that didn’t take the sting away. Christmas abruptly stopped. Then, it just as quickly restarted. We brought Mama home with us because there was nothing to be done except wait until the arrangements could be made. That was also COVID year, so Christmas Eve service was just online. Everything was weird, different. Trying to have a Christmas in the middle of such deep sadness. YET. We did. The Lord poured peace out onto all of us with such abandon. We didn’t forget, but He also showed us the way and allowed remembrance of HIS child and the JOY that comes when the silence is over. That whole Christmas day, I marveled that my Daddy was celebrating Christmas in heaven. Because He was born, lived, died, and was resurrected, I can have HOPE. That hope and peace was connected in my heart so fully during that time.
Whatever this Christmas season brings to you and yours, I pray that you reflect, remember, and know his PEACE, HOPE, COMFORT, and JOY.
“And behold, an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were greatly afraid. Then the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people. For there is born to you this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.'”
Luke 2:9-11
