2017 has, in a lot of ways, been a tough year for a lot of people. I’ve been blessed, but even so it’s been hard on my heart seeing the storms around me and the grief of others, and the pain and strife that seems to be everywhere, ever-increasing.
I know I live in a broken world. I know I serve a Good and Loving God who brings me, and the world, Hope and Joy. For a lot of people, that sounds stupid in one way or another. Believe me, if you can come up with an argument against my belief, or a smart-ass remark concerning it, I’ve already explored it, already heard it, or already come up with it myself.
For other people, right now, it just sounds cruel. Even the words “love” and “hope” and “joy” are painful right now. If that’s you, I pray for you to be comforted, for comfort does exist. I also pray that your holidays will be free of people trying to force you to be cheery, or who are inconsiderate of your pain.
All of this has had me musing, for several days, on the light in the darkness that is my Lord. This season, to me, is all about that light, just a distant starlight at first, then a candle flame… but something that is alive and grows. I’ve been struck to the heart with the kind of agony that is also joy, by the contrast of that light in a world that is capable of producing so much darkness.
So here are song lyrics and a poem that have been resting on my heart as I think about these things, and with them, my love to you all.
“Hail the heaven-born Prince of Peace. Hail the Sun of Righteousness. Light and life to all, He brings. Risen with healing in His wings. Mild, He lays His glory by, born that Man no more may die. Born to save the sons of Earth, born to give them second birth!” -Hark! The Herald Angels Sing
“Glorious now behold Him arise! King, and God, and Sacrifice. Alleluia, Alleluia, Earth to heaven replies.” – We Three Kings
“Long lay the world in sin an error pining, till He appeared and the soul felt its worth. A thrill of Hope. The weary world rejoices for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!” -Oh Holy Night
“Come, ye weary, heavy-laden, Lost and ruined by the fall. If you tarry ’til you’re better, You will never come at all.” -Come Ye Sinners, Poor and Needy
“O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer our spirits by Thine advent here. Disperse the gloomy clouds of night, and death’s dark shadows put to flight” -O Come, O Come Emmanuel
“Arrows in the night, justice all in flight. What shall a just man do? Run like a deer, to the Lord, my soul! Fly like a bird to His mountain!” -Run Like a Deer
And finally, I give you a three poems.
Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lacked anything.
“A guest,” I answered, “worthy to be here”:
Love said, “You shall be he.”
“I, the unkind, ungrateful?
Ah, my dear, I cannot look on thee.”
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
“Who made the eyes but I?”
“Truth, Lord; but I have marred them; let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.”
“And know you not,” says Love, “who bore the blame?” “My dear, then I will serve.”
“You must sit down,” says Love, “and taste my meat.”
So I did sit and eat. -by George Herbert
The Darkling ThrushI leant upon a coppice gateWhen Frost was spectre-grey,And Winter’s dregs made desolateThe weakening eye of day.The tangled bine-stems scored the skyLike strings of broken lyres,And all mankind that haunted nighHad sought their household fires.The land’s sharp features seemed to beThe Century’s corpse outleant,His crypt the cloudy canopy,The wind his death-lament.The ancient pulse of germ and birthWas shrunken hard and dry,And every spirit upon earthSeemed fervourless as I.At once a voice arose amongThe bleak twigs overheadIn a full-hearted evensongOf joy illimited;An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,In blast-beruffled plume,Had chosen thus to fling his soulUpon the growing gloom.So little cause for carolingsOf such ecstatic soundWas written on terrestrial thingsAfar or nigh around,That I could think there trembled throughHis happy good-night airSome blessed Hope, whereof he knewAnd I was unaware. -Thomas Hardy
A Child of the SnowsThere is heard a hymn when the panes are dim,
And never before or again,
When the nights are strong with a darkness long,
And the dark is alive with rain.
Never we know but in sleet and in snow,
The place where the great fires are,
That the midst of the earth is a raging mirth
And the heart of the earth a star.
And at night we win to the ancient inn
Where the child in the frost is furled,
We follow the feet where all souls meet
At the inn at the end of the world.
The gods lie dead where the leaves lie red,
For the flame of the sun is flown,
The gods lie cold where the leaves lie gold,
And a Child comes forth alone.
-by G. K. Chesterton