You will do everything you have promised; 
Lord, your love is eternal. 
Complete the work that you have begun.
Psalm 138:8
For many, the holidays hurt. 
While there is still the joy and excitement of all that accompanies the holidays, there can be a prick of pain, or even guilt, in each moment that we actually start to get comfortable with our Christmas. 
Church becomes difficult when everyone is smiling and singing and saying "Merry Christmas" to one another.  
We wonder what our holidays would look like if that person was still with us, or if our families weren't so torn. We dream of a different Christmas—one that wasn't a constant reminder of loss; one that was simple, whole, and full of life as we had imagined it. 
 December 9
I will trust that no matter what
intends to harm me today, 
God's arms have me. 
Today, this Advent - God is never absent,
never impotent, never distant. 
I can never be undone. 
If God can transfigure the greatest evil
into the greatest Gift, 
then He intends to turn whatever
I'm experiencing now into a gift. 
"If God can transfigure the greatest evil into the greatest Gift, then he intends to turn whatever I'm experiencing now into a gift." 
I cannot imagine a more difficult thing than to look at our deepest point of pain and view it as a gift. It seems too...harsh. Too insensitive. Gifts are supposed to be good things. How can my horrible heartbreak or tragedy or downward spiral become good in any way? 
But there is a very specific gift that you have within you if you carry the burden of a difficult loss or hardship during life, especially during the holidays. It may come in the form of pain or guilt as you remember and wish and hope. Regardless of what has caused it or how you are now walking in these shoes you never thought you'd walk in, you are forced to look this gift in the face every time you feel the weight of your circumstances. And it seems these painful reminders are around every corner during the holidays. 
This gift is not wrapped with paper or a bow, nor is it something we hoped to see under the tree for Christmas. We may not even really want it, honestly. 
Nonetheless, you have received the gift of perspective. 
I have received the gift of perspective. 
Whether or not we choose to acknowledge it, it has been gifted to us. We have this gaping, tender place in our hearts that deeply remembers the beauty of a life, and of life in general. We are reminded through a new lens of what we hope to see in the world around us. We see through the presents, the glitter and the sparkling lights (while I admit, are still beautiful to look at) and have a deeper sense of appreciation and perspective for why this season of Advent is so meaningful. 
We have the gift of a God who chose to limit himself and lived among us in humble, human form to transfigure the evil of death into the greatest gift of life. That God is not a God who is distant or absent. He is a God whose heart breaks with his creation and helps them navigate their brokenness in the wings of his hope, healing and comfort. 
Though perspective hurts as it hits, it is one of the more valuable gifts I have ever realized. While it takes time for any person to dig through the many emotions and aches that accompany perspective, we are beginning—or have long been walking—a journey in which God promises to walk with us hand in hand if we allow him to. He is completing in us a great work of art in which our moments of brokenness and imperfections will be transfigured into a beautiful story of healing and redemption. 
One of my hopes for us this Advent season is that we will understand the gift of our pain, the new depth that it brings to our hearts, and the hope of a Savior that it points to. 
He will do everything He has promised; 
His love is eternal. 
He will complete the work that he has begun in you. 
Peace and Hope this Christmas, 
Jamie 
jrobison@b4church.org 
 

 
No comments:
Post a Comment