Today I was driving home from work and the song "O Holy Night" was on the radio. This has always been one of my favorites, partially because I love to belt out (usually off-key) that epic "DI-VIIIIIIIINE". But the line "the weary world rejoices" clung to me and wouldn't let me go this afternoon. Weary, yes that's exactly how I would describe my heart, body, mind, everything right now. After taking the puppy outside, I couldn't make it up the staircase without falling apart. As I sat there, tears being licked by my sweet, hyper little friend, I just went over all the ways that I felt so weary. These past few months have been tough, to say the least, but where I head from here doesn't feel much more optimistic either.
So for those of you out there right now who find yourself as part of the weary world, I want you to know these things.
I am right there with you. I lost my aunt about 4 months ago and still often find myself processing through stages of grief. We also moved to a brand new city four months ago and still have yet to find community and feel like we have established ourselves here. My husband and I go days at a time without seeing each other on a weekly basis due to mismatched work schedules. I work full-time and am in school almost full-time (when you add in lab hours). I'm not complaining, I'm just weary. I'm not here to throw a pity party with you, I'm just here to say, I see you and I understand. The 25 job postings you applied to are not calling back. The grad schools turned you down (again maybe). Your marriage is in a low spot. The test results didn't come back clean. You are alone for your first Christmas.
We aren't the only ones. As I sat on the stairs trying to find the strength to get up, I thought about Mary, as in the mother of Jesus. I imagine she had to be pretty weary about now 2000 some years ago. (I do realize that Biblical scholars don't think Jesus was actually born in December.) Whether she and Joseph had started traveling to Bethlehem or not yet, she was in the final month of pregnancy. Though youth was on her side, she was every bit human as was the baby she was carrying, so I'm sure the aches, pains, and discomfort of the end of pregnancy were in full fledge. A long road trip on donkey-back, the fear of childbirth approaching, the rumors flying around town about her unwed pregnancy, the weight of carrying the son of God, the unknown of motherhood, I could see how easily she could have been weary. The Israelites/Jews spent thousands of years waiting for the Messiah, I think I would have been a little weary if I were them too.
We may not be rejoicing yet, but someday soon. I think God is okay with weary. He can make good things out of weary, but He also seeks to meet us where we are at. There is always something to be thankful for, even if its just the breath we just took and the potential it holds for a brighter tomorrow. The hope of Christ does not fade with seasons, it is everlasting and something we can always rejoice in if nothing else. When everything earthly seems to fade or pale or fail, we hold tightly to our salvation and the promise of eternity which will drastically supersede the time and joys of our time on earth.
A friend of mine from college, Alex Lewis, is doing a daily poetry share called The Weary World Rejoices, about the collision of pain and hope that we find ourselves in during this Christmas season. I checked it out for the first time this evening, and if you feel the need to spend some time lamenting during this Christmas season, I highly recommend signing up for their email list.
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