It's dark and cold as I pull around the corner, onto my street. I'm bundled up in thoughts, to-do-lists, plans. A smattering of worry whips across my mind. There's so much to do and I'm doing it all so very imperfectly.
And then I see it.
It sparkles in the darkness, a twinkling beacon of hope. Lights to banish the darkness. Lights to guide us safely home. Lights to cast out the doubts.
I pull into the driveway and pause for a moment, letting myself breathe.
Long lay the world, in sin and error pining, 'till He appeared and the soul felt its worth…
I trudge through the darkness and toward the light. I enter the house, spilling keys, packages, jacket. Warmth surrounds me.
Chains shall He break, for the slave is our brother, and in His name, all oppression shall cease…
Sometimes the chains that bind us are invisible. Our souls don't know their worth–a silent oppression seeking to quench the light.
I've been fighting the encroaching darkness, fending off the shadows that seep into my mind. It always seems to happen this time of year–revisiting anniversaries of pain.
But now, standing here with little feet running toward me and little arms thrown around my legs, the light shines in. It warms me. I choose to remember the good–especially in its smallest manifestations.
And that gives me Hope.
"The God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that you may abound in hope."