Hope is Alive

Yesterday morning, I sat down to read the newspaper while I had my breakfast. As I read, I felt my heart slowly sinking into despair. I went from stories of senseless shootings and mass murders to stories about how our President wants to make changes which will require all health care workers to perform abortions, even against their consciences. Later that day, I read the headline story on MSN.com (which was the cover story in Newsweek magazine) about the “decline and fall of Christian America”. Every day we are flooded with such stories, telling us how evil abounds and how our country turns farther and farther away from our godly foundation. More and more often, my husband and I discuss the state of things in our world, and worry for the future of our children and grandchildren. As I read these depressing stories, one of my children suddenly piped up, “Mom, it’s Easter week!” And in the midst of the darkness, I glimpsed a great light.

Over 2000 years ago, something newsworthy happened. A baby was born, one who fulfilled all the prophecies of long ago. He came in a humble manner, not in a kingly fashion, as was expected by the Jewish people who awaited his arrival. He grew up, traveled around ministering to people and meeting their needs in a quiet, humble way. And then, one day, he entered the city of Jerusalem, riding on a donkey, and was greeted by the people. They waved palm branches and yelled their praises, “Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!” In the midst of their suffering and struggle against the Roman oppression, their Saviour had come and hope was born.

Things were no different then. They had problems, and violence and suffering. People were sick, they made poor choices, and they had hatred and discord, just like us. They, too, needed hope, just as we do today. They were under Roman oppression and needed someone to save them. We are under the oppression of sin, and need someone to save us. In the Jewish religion, it was required to make a blood sacrifice in order to obtain forgiveness for their sins. (Hebrews 9:22 says, “In fact, the law requires that nearly everything be cleansed with blood, and without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness.”) We, too, are in desperate need of forgiveness. I see, more and more, the darkness overtaking our society. Immorality is rampant, the very definition of marriage is crumbling, 40% of new births in America are born to unmarried mothers, alcohol and drugs are being consumed in vast amounts and by younger and younger children, and the pursuit of pleasure has become the sole purpose of our existence. We are desperate for someone to save us.

A mere seven days later, that Saviour was arrested. After a sham of a trial, he was brutally nailed to a rough, wooden cross, where he suffered unimaginable pain and grief, separated from his Heavenly Father, and bearing the weight of all the world’s sin…past, present and future. He was mocked by those he came to save, tortured and reviled by those he had treated only with the purest of loves. And yet, he looked on them with grace, and pleaded with his Father to forgive his tormenters. After crying out to his beloved Father, he breathed his last. Hope was dead.

His disciples holed up in their houses, defeated by their grief. Their king had apparently failed them. There was no battle, no mighty warrior who freed them from the hated Roman rule. They were cast into despair, not understanding that the story was not over.

Three days later, the sun rose on their grief. Early in the morning, Jesus’ mother and some other women went to the tomb to anoint his body. Upon reaching the tomb, they were surprised and frightened to see that the stone (which sealed the entrance) had been rolled away. As they entered the tomb, they saw a man, dressed in white, and were alarmed. After reassuring the women, the man gave them some astonishing news. “He is not dead…He is risen!” Their Saviour had not failed them…hope was alive again. Jesus had risen, just as He promised.

And in this resurrection, Jesus offers us true freedom. He paid the blood offering for our sins, once and for all, and offered us the chance for a true resurrection…to a new life and a promise of eternal life with Him in heaven. Hope is not dead, no matter what you read in the newspaper. Hope is alive and well, in the person of Jesus Christ. If you know Him, and follow Him, your hope can illuminate the darkest night, no matter what you are experiencing right now. And that is what we celebrate this coming Sunday…that we have a Saviour, and that He most definitely lives.

Christmas With Jesus

There is a shadow of grief on Christmas this year. One of my best friends is losing her husband to ALS and my heart aches as I watch her family suffer. It won’t be long now…his kidneys are failing, he’s on morphine for the pain, and his time is running out. My friend is hurting, agonizing over her husband’s suffering, yet agonizing over his leaving as well. She loves him too much to wish his suffering to go on, yet the parting is tearing her apart. She knows that this isn’t the end and that she will be with him again someday, but someday seems so far away.

In the midst of the pain, I think of Christmas. I think of the agony God must have suffered when He decided to send His beloved, only Son down to earth to save a people who would mock him, revile him, crucify him. While the angels were rejoicing at Jesus’ birth, while the shepherds were overcome with joy at the good news, while the wise men journeyed many miles to find this special baby, God was weeping. He knew very well what would become of His precious Son. He knew we would reject him, beat him, and hang him on a cross. He knew there would be a time of separation, followed by a sweet reunion in heaven.

Paul will soon be with his Lord. He will be greeted with joy and with love by the Father who created him and has walked with him through this terrible suffering. Paul will cast off his wheelchair, his pain and his sorrow and walk beside Jesus on streets of gold. He will, at long last, be where he belongs. He will celebrate this Christmas, for the first time, with the One who made it all possible. While we are weeping, and mourning for his loss, he will be experiencing things we can only imagine. While we are celebrating Christmas and longing for the return of Jesus, Paul will be celebrating Christmas with Jesus. And some day, we will get to be there, too, and Paul will be waiting to welcome us home.

I don’t know why terrible things like ALS have to happen, especially to good people like my friend, but I do know that God isn’t absent in all this. He knows our pain, because He experienced it, too, voluntarily. He did this so we could have a home in heaven with him, so we could have peace, and hope, and joy. He is not absent in my friend’s life; He is there with her, sustaining her every day, giving her the strength to face each day and its challenges. He is there, holding her six children in the palm of His hand, storing up every tear that they cry and promising to be their Father. And He will be there, waiting to welcome Paul home as he breathes his last breath. Merry Christmas, Paul…it’s going to be your first REAL Christmas.

“First time to hear the angels sing,
Glory Hallelujah to the Risen King,
and a holy night is what this is,
for this is my first Christmas…”

from “My First Christmas” words and music by Carolyn Arends (c.2000).


A few hours ago, Paul was taken to heaven to meet his Saviour. For him, there is no more suffering or pain or sickness. Please pray for his family during this painful time.

Where Christmas is Found

I have had many opportunities this last week to observe people as they go about their rituals, getting ready for Christmas. Christmas in America has become a crazy merry-go-round of activity, rushing from store to store and from party to party, standing in long lines at the post office to mail gifts to family and friends far away, and participating in children’s programs, plays and dance recitals. This year has been a small oasis of peace for our family, without all the usual activities of Christmases past. My oldest daughter has graduated out of her choir, reducing the number of Christmas activities for us this year. Our dance studio elected to take this Christmas off, giving us three weeks of no dance classes, and no recital this month. While a part of me is disappointed, as I enjoyed all the concerts and recitals and watching my children perform, another part of me is basking in the slower pace this season.

I started my shopping early this year and have finished up well before Christmas. As I went out today to buy my last gifts, I remembered why I like to shop early—there were people everywhere, grabbing and buying and loudly debating if they had to purchase a gift for so-and-so, and if so, what should that gift be. I heard lots of “oughts” and “shoulds” and saw very little joy on people’s faces as they contemplated those people who should mean the most to them. I heard people worrying about money, and how they would pay for what they were purchasing. I saw teenagers spending hundreds of dollars…on themselves, and rejoicing over the great “stuff” they were getting. I saw men buying bigger and better light displays, presumably to one-up the neighbors. I saw cranky children, pointing and whining, “I want THAT for Christmas”.

Truly, it made me sad. I thought to myself, “This is not Christmas.” I don’t believe that Christmas will be found in crowded shopping malls, busy concerts or elaborate light displays. I don’t believe it will be found in fulfilled wish lists, overstuffed plates or hectic parties. But have I seen Christmas this year? Oh yes, indeed I have.

I saw Christmas today as I went to visit my friend who is patiently caring for her husband, who is suffering with ALS. She cares for all his physical needs (which are not insignificant, being that he is on a ventilator now), patiently sits with him and deciphers his difficult speech, sleeps and eats little, and still finds time and energy to love on her six children.

I saw Christmas the other day when I was listening in on my children playing upstairs and heard my youngest ask her older brother if she could borrow one of his video games. The usual reply is “not right now”, and it caught my ear when I heard, “of course you can…you can use them anytime you want.” My heart smiled as I witnessed the spirit of Christmas invading my home.

I see Christmas every night as my family gathers around our Advent wreath to spend a few moments reflecting on the gift given to us at Christmas by our Heavenly Father. I see it in the wonder on my children’s faces, the sweetness of their prayers, the joy in my heart as we read the Scriptures foretelling Jesus’ birth.

Christmas is found in the most unlikely places. It won’t be found in frenzied shopping malls, harried schedules and raucous parties. It is found in the humblest of circumstances, the most hopeless of situations, and the darkest of nights. Where pain and suffering live, that is where Christmas can be found. Jesus came to bring hope to the hopeless and healing to the hurting. He is right there beside my friend, holding her hand as she holds her husband’s. He is with my children as they learn about the true meaning of Christmas and as their hearts fill with anticipation for the celebration of Jesus’ birth. He is with each of us, no matter our circumstances, as we enter this most holy of seasons…we only have to slow down, open our hearts and witness the miracle of Christmas.