A Weary World Rejoices

December 4th, 2016 I remember sitting in our little church service at COTP. The pastor we were streaming in, not surprisingly, spoke about the advent season. He talked about how the season of advent is a season of waiting. Waiting for the savior to be born, and recognizing the hope that brought with it. 

Often, waiting is anticipating something exciting; a baby to be born, a vacation to go on, opening gifts, celebrating something special, hanging out with friends, or even just a day off. There are so many things to look forward to, to hope for. We may even say these events bring us joy. 

Many times though, we wait with bated breath for something that we wish wouldn’t happen. A surgery, test results, a death of a sick loved one, saying goodbye to someone moving away or leaving your workplace. These are usually far from joy. 

The latter is the season I found myself in, in December of 2016. I remember as he talked about hope and waiting I just kept thinking that all I was waiting for was my four year old to pass away and how bad that hurt. I hardly wanted to leave his side because I never knew if he’d take his last breath when I wasn’t there. He was at the point where there was nothing else the medical care in Haiti could offer him, death would put him out of his misery and give him a brand new body, but that waiting time was anything but exciting. 

For so many years of my life I loved Christmastime. Each December I waited with anticipation to celebrate the hope of the world being born. I loved getting presents and I loved giving presents. I enjoyed people coming together and spending time with loved ones. I loved the community that Christmastime seemed to bring. Many of those things are what people think of when they think about what they like about Christmastime too.

Just six days later, after hearing that sermon, I awoke at 4 am to the sound a feeding pump and the child I had worried about so much over the previous several months no longer alive. The wait was over. Later that month, I could hear Christmas songs from church worship from my bedroom window, but I just didn’t have the energy to actually go to the service. My wait and anticipation was over, but instead of something like a new baby, there was a big hole in our house. Keven’s silly smiles and antics would never be experienced again. 

The year came and went and there was so much change in that next year—more kids went home to their forever families and more kids moved into the life house with us. In that same bedroom in early December 2017 I was getting ready for church but running late and Christmas worship songs started to play. I was stopped in my tracks and never made it to church that day as all the memories from a year earlier flooded back to me. That Christmas season was really hard, as were many that followed. I wanted to make Christmas as special as I could for my kids, but so often I couldn’t do even a fraction of what I wished I could. 

All those years before, I lived pretty naively and didn’t realize what a privilege it was to just be able to focus on all of the great things about Christmas. But, I’ve also learned, it is so much more of a privilege to hurt and hit rock bottom and then come out on the other side, knowing what it’s like to need God more than you ever have before. My favorite Christmas song has become “O Holy Night,” specifically because of the line “A weary world rejoices.” What a beautiful picture. There are so many things in this world that make us weary, but because of Jesus, we can still rejoice. There was so much hope brought by “our dear Savior’s birth.” When you are weary and can rejoice, that is when you truly know joy because it isn’t from people or things, it’s from Jesus. Last Sunday in church we talked about how Joy is synonymous with Jesus. You can’t really have one without the other. 

 

I still don’t have it all figured out. I probably never will. But, I’ve learned to hold both deep sorrow and deep joy in the same breath. I’ve learned that even when I’m so weary I can’t get out of bed, that God is right there with me. God knows what it’s like to watch his son die and that death was so much more painful than silently in sleep. God knows my tired and weary heart. He begs me to bring that to him and to rest in him when I can’t go on any longer. He loves to keep showing me his joy until I can start recognizing it on my own. He knows what it is like to hold deep sorrow and deep joy at the same time. It’s because of him that I can still find joy even when I’m weary. 

 

Life is hard. We face real things everyday. Maybe you are in the season of waiting where you just want to make it through the holidays and don’t feel like celebrating. Or maybe you are missing friends or family extra this time of year. Maybe this year has been extra hard and you despise others who are so happy about the season. Please, know that is okay. Also, please hear this deeply—do not walk through it alone. Reach out to someone you trust and walk through it with them. Maybe this year it’s too hard to see the hope of Jesus and joy seems out of reach, but your friend can and walking through it together has to be enough for now. I pray that one day, you will be able to feel that hope and experience the joy of Jesus again (or even for the first time). 

Happy 8th anniversary of the day you got to meet Jesus face to face, Keven.