After the Lights

The big day came.
It was anticipated for over a month, as Christmas music sounded through the house, candy canes sat in a jar on the table next to a wooden block calendar which marked the days off one by one. It didn't matter that a prankster in the house continued to change the wooden blocks to say December 59, instead of the actual day. We all knew Christmas was coming. We all felt the magic in the air ~ that beautiful excitement of fun times, jolly singing, gift-giving, and family visits. And the reminder that the real reason we celebrate this time is that babe in a manger in Bethlehem.
In all the smiles, laughter and sing-song hearts, I am also well aware of the frowns, tears and sadness of heart in many people. The ones who have lost a loved one to death. The ones whose relationships have fallen apart and left them lonely. The ones who struggle with illness. The ones who struggle with God.
The thing, though, that I have found about why we celebrate the birth of Jesus is that there is a binding factor for all these life situations ~ whether one has suffered, is suffering, or is smiling and laughing.

HOPE.

When we have times of laughter, we have hope.
When we have times of smiles, we have hope.
When there are tears and struggles, we can still have hope.
It doesn't ever leave us.
It just is.
We don't always see it.
We don't always feel it.
We aren't always aware of it or even believe it.
Nothing we feel or do can take it away, though.
It just is.
It's kind of like joy.
It's not a feeling so much, but a deep, inner stirring that dwells within. Sometimes it makes us do cartwheels in the backyard, other times it just sustains us unknowingly.

Hope and joy are holding hands.
They work together, uplifting, encouraging our spirit, even when we don't recognize them. Especially when we don't recognize them. Often they hold us up and take us through life.
I picture a family on a beach. A child is holding the hands of both mother and father. The loving parents pull up their hands as they stroll along the sand, swinging the child in the air. Glee pours out of the child's mouth in laughter. The child smiles, in freedom and abandon, lifted up by love.
Lifted up by hope on one side, and joy on the other.
Holding hands.
That image planted itself when I read the verse, "May the God of hope, fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." (Romans 15:13, NIV)
And then in Romans 12:12, "Be joyful in hope ..." (NIV)

The God of hope.
Joy and hope.
Isn't that a big part of the message of Christmas?
Hope wrapped in swaddling cloths in a manger.
Hope that salvation was coming.
Hope that could overwhelm us, and overflow our own hearts.
The God of hope, placed hope in a manger so that we who believe and put our trust in Him, can have over-pouring hope ourselves.
Because when it overflows in us, it pours out to people around us.

After the gifts are opened, after the lights are turned off and decorations put away for another year, we are still left with an enduring hope.
I like to sit in the glow of the Christmas tree lights, basking in the warm, soft comfort they give me. I love to reflect on the Christmas story and all its players. I love to remember that there is hope. That there is still anticipation as well, that one day our Hope will return for His people and bring us to an eternity filled and overflowing with the purest of light, love, joy, and hope.
I love that in the meantime, hope binds and wraps us up like swaddled babes, tucking us in with some joy, love, and peace.