Tend to Joy

I am feeling much the same way I did several years ago when a little girl named Cora died. I didn't know her, but had read her story, been touched by it, and then was shocked to find out that she had passed away from the cancer that her parents had only recently been told about. For days, I cried off and on, and I remember thinking it was so strange because I didn't even know this family. 

I think part of what made such a big impact on me is that she and Eliana were close in age. Eliana was a little older, but in Cora's baby pictures, I could see Eliana's face. It made me so sad to think of the pain that this other family was experiencing. And I am a worrier, so it made me scared to think,"Everything could change in an instant." I worried about every sniffle and anything that seemed unusual.

Again, I find myself thinking constantly about others in their pain, the families of those who were robbed of their lives yesterday. I can't listen to Christmas music without feeling a wild, deep, aching longing for Christ to come back quickly and restore this world, free it from this bondage to brokenness. The lyrics of "O Come, O Come, Immanuel" and "Away in a Manger" and "God Rest Ye Merry Gentelmen" and even of that new-found (for me) happiest of songs "Born is the King" all press down on my heart. It hurts to tend to joy.

Like everyone else, I feel devastated for those who have been directly affected by what happened. Those whose loved ones died, those who were there, those who showed up to help...while I don't know any of them personally, and they are far away from me, at the same time they are right across the street. We live right across the way from an elementary school. Every weekday, I see groups of kids, parents with their children passing by on their way to school. They are the same age as my children are. They are the same age as the kids in Connecticut, whose lives will never be the same.

And now it feels like we're laid out on a battleground. And it might be easy to feel like we are under seige and losing. Courage may wane. Fatigue and fear infiltrate. Despair slumps our weary shoulders.

But in our despair is where we truly meet, and are even able to encounter, the God who rescues, the LORD who delivers. The Good News is only good news to those who are surrounded by horrible news. At the center of all of the circumstances that terrorize us, break our hearts, bring us to our knees, is the thing that is the root of the bad, and which binds all of the bad together: sin. It leads us, fearfully, reverently, longingly, hopefully to the Savior - his healing hands, his dusty feet, his broken body, his pierced brow, his empty tomb, his glorious ascension, and his imminent return. We might walk hesitantly, or we might run boldly and desperately, but either way, it's his arms we seek, his face we long for, his love we are endlessly hoping for. 

This Advent season has taken on a profoundly different significance. While our hearts are broken, and not just because of what happened in a small town in Connecticut, but for all of the atrocities and horrors that children and adults alike face all over the world, our hearts are not completely destroyed. The unseen eternal which Paul speaks of is always before us, and we are promised this: it is our future, and the unseen will become seen. We will walk the new streets, we will be in the new land, we will live with God.

"‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."
Revelation 21:4

We wait. And we hope. And we tend to joy.

Even though it may hurt for a while, or longer, we tend to joy. If we don't, we wither and die, though we are breathing still. We must breathe, and pray, and not be silent.

...weeping may stay for the night,
    but rejoicing comes in the morning.
You turned my wailing into dancing;
    you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent.
    Lord my God, I will praise you forever. 
Psalm 30:5b,11,12 

Comments

[Mindee@ourfrontdoor]

It has indeed been an awful weekend. I'm so glad God is real and He is good. I'm SO glad I can pray and he answers. That makes me feel less helpless in the middle of these messes. Do me a favor though and don't immerse yourself in the news stories. My rule for myself is that I can read the stories but not watch video or look at too many pictures. I just get too stuck in my own head and running down the road to depression if I do.

[Missy D]

I love your line about the good news being only good news to those who are surrounded by horrible news. I am so glad He is able and encourages us to wait for joy. Like Mindee, I have to stay away from the news. I also realize I have to stay away from Facebook ... the platitudes people post about a lack of God in the schools is about to drive me over the edge. Really? Really? Is there a lack of God in the schools? I am sure the Israelites felt a lack of God in Babylon. And I am sure those in the full inns felt a lack of God. Turns out He showed up in a barn down the street. HE IS ALWAYS THERE. Gets me fired up. He is there.