2013: The Year of Hope

"There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach. His song in the tower had been defiance rather than hope; for then he was thinking of himself. Now, for a moment, his own fate, and even his master's, ceased to trouble him. He crawled back into the brambles and laid himself by Frodo's side, and putting away all fear, he cast himself into a deep untroubled sleep."

~The Lord of the Rings, by J. R. R. Tolkien

As this year wound down to mere days, I turned my mind to pondering what another year of life has taught me. At first, I could not come up with anything -- I felt I was in just the same place that I was at the close of last year. What word could sum up my year of trying, failing, and plodding on, contrasted on occasion with unforgettable once-in-a-lifetime experiences? Then it came to me: Hope. Of course! The word has come to mind countless times this year in various contexts, and has picked me up over and over when failure and futility would knock me down. The great hope of Heaven has grown in me more than ever -- with so much endless beauty to look forward to, what is a little trouble now? Dead earthly hopes are a very small thing in a very short while hardly worthy of notice when I consider eternity, where every hope I've ever had will find its fulfillment. Not that all earthly hope must die -- I am here yet, and hope remains for many desires to find their place in this life.

To me, Tolkien's picture of Sam and the star that renewed his hope is a splendid portrayal of the concept. There is beauty that no evil, no matter how dark it seems, will ever touch, and that is where our hope must be. If our hope is only for our own present well-being, we may well grit our teeth and defy anything that dares come between us and our desire. But if our hope is set on something outside of us that will be there no matter what life brings us, then we can forget our little selves and no fear can trouble us. Look up! Do you see only a star above the clouds? Only a star! Bright and lovely though it be, it seems only a tiny thing in the darkness; yet it is really something vast and awesome beyond all you have ever known. So is our hope. Because of God's grace, there is truly much to live for, both in this life and beyond!

To You, O Lord, I lift up my soul;

in You I trust, O my God. . . .

No one whose hope is in You

will ever be put to shame.

Psalm 25:1-3

The Outcast

For all the merriment and festivities, Christmas is a time of perhaps unequaled pain for many -- the bitterness of old memories, the sorrow of lost traditions, loneliness of another holiday without family and friends.   But was not even the first Christmas a time of turmoil, a story peopled with outcasts?  Mary surely lost her reputation, and nearly her fiancé, with the gossip of her pregnancy going around small-town Nazareth.  And what about Joseph -- what might people whisper behind his back when his bride turns up pregnant before the wedding?  What did their families think?  A trip to Bethlehem where no one would know the scandal was probably almost welcome, even if it was just another oppressive reminder that their nation was a slave of Rome.

And what of the Child?  Well, His loss on that first Christmas was greater than any of us will ever experience.  He left behind a perfect relationship with His Father in His perfect dwelling place, and came to a dingy, dark world where He was an inconvenience, a laughing-stock, without even a decent birthplace.  All His life, He was an outcast, misunderstood even by His family and closest friends.  And at the end they all abandoned Him to the most shameful death imaginable.  He understands bitter memories, sorrow, and loneliness.  And all out of love for us -- hurting outcast, turn to Him, the One who bore it all that you might share His joy.

He is despised and rejected by men,

a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief . . .

Surely He has borne our griefs,

and carried our sorrows.

Isaiah 53:3-4

Busy

Running in circles, too busy to think
So much to do, today's gone in a blink
This thing is urgent, it must happen now
I know You're important, but just tell me how
I can possibly quit all that's lined up to do
For even one hour of time just with You
What would she think, and what about him
If I suddenly stop being all that I've been
I'm committed to that and I've always done this
But somehow this stuff isn't bringing me bliss
I'm stubborn and selfish, I want it my way
I'm too scared to hear what You'd have to say
You might say I'll have to drop this and wait
Or You might tell me to love the people I hate
But I guess I should listen since You know what's best
And only with You will I fully have rest
Whatever I do and want is too small
If it steals me from Jesus, my Master, my All