As I write this, the sun is shining brightly in the sky outside.  I’m sitting beside a hospital bed, listening to the loud beeping of an alarm that should be telling a nurse somewhere to come change an IV medicine bag.

My friends are posting Christmas carols today.  I did that earlier this week.  Somehow, Christmas isn’t close to my thoughts today.

Even though a niece has started her road trip toward our house from northern latitudes this morning, and a sister-in-law will fly in from eastern longitudes later this week to be with us for Christmas, I find myself contemplating life and its uncertanties on this day.

Sitting in a waiting room of a hospital for nine hours a day ago will do that to a person.  Visits with friends who pass by in the hallway—an activity one would expect to lift spirits—allows the shadows to creep into the mind.

A few days ago, I lifted my candle with a thousand other folks and said that the darkness could not overcome the light.  I don’t repent of the declaration.  It is still true.

Still, the lights of physical life can dim, while the light of Redeeming Grace shines the brighter.

As I waited for the result of a loved one’s surgery yesterday, I learned of a couple of families I know who are facing the loss of their loved ones this holiday season.  Somehow, for them, the light won’t seem so bright in this season we call festive.

And, my heart weeps with them.

And, that’s as it should be.

But still, I watched the sunrise this morning before coming to sit beside the bed of my loved one who remains in pain, and I just couldn’t stop the words from welling up. 

“When morning guilds the skies
My heart awaking cries,
‘May Jesus Christ be praised.'”

As the day goes on, I don’t doubt that my spirit will flag.  Sitting beside a bed is hard work.  Elation is not the emotion one feels most in that locale.

But, it doesn’t change the fact that every morning we arise to meet the day is one in which we are blessed by our Creator.

“It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not; they are new every morning.  Great is Thy faithfulness.”
(Lamentations 3: 22-24, KJV)

It was true when the words were written.  It’s still true today.

Christmas will come.  This Advent season builds the anticipation for the day when we’ll celebrate our Savior’s birth.

I’ll sing the carols.  I will.

I hope your voice will blend with mine as we give thanks for His good and perfect gifts.

Even if our voices don’t blend all that well, it will be a joyful noise raised up to the God who bends low—the God who hears us, who understands our frailties, and still He came for us.

I’d still like to have the song in my mouth when the evening comes.

 

“Yea, Lord, we greet thee, born this happy morning.
Jesus to thee be all glory given.”
(from O Come All Ye Faithful, by John Francis Wade)