you've heard it before:
God is so good!
what an answer to
our prayers!
we have all said these words
at one time or another,
especially when the
answer to our prayers
is the answer for which
we had prayed.
but what if the answer
is not
so obvious?
or when the answer is
no?
is He still good when one
hears silence?
what about
wait?
is He any less good when
the prognosis is bleak
or the cancer invades
or the one so loved dies
or the child still runs
from His arms of love
or the job is lost
or home is lost
and so on.
and who is to say what is
positive or negative,
good or bad,
anyway?
for without
hearing the symphony
in absolute completion,
who can decide that one
particular line or part is
not good?
we simply cannot see what
our loving Abba sees.
our vision
our minds
our emotions
are in this
dimension
of humanness
and only the One
who composed
the score and
wrote the
manuscript
can know how
one circumstance
or event which
appears so
tragic
will impact
another life,
another story,
in ways so stunning
as to take one's breath away.
and that is not to make
light of the tragic in the
tragedy, for pain hurts.
deeply.
it is just to say that we
cannot see what He sees
and know what He knows.
so when is God good?
He is good all the time.
no matter what.
no matter when.
no matter where.
yet knowing this truth
is not to say the heart
will never question His goodness.
it simply means
we know that
we know that He
is
good,
for good
is the essence
of who God is.
"Let my soul be at rest again,
for the Lord has been good to me."
Psalm 116:7
Christmas in Aleppo.
is Christmas even possible
in a city virtually destroyed by
war?
and not just war.
no, this is
a country
killing its own
grandpas and
grandmas and
fathers and
mothers and
daughters and
sons.
bombs and starvation
and snipers and
absolutely
no mercy.
no grace.
no love.
blood runs red.
babies cry in hunger.
children scream in terror.
where is Christmas in this?
when does the nightmare end?
when will the child have a bed?
when will bombs stop raining
down
from
the
sky?
when will the
dust rising from
buildings crushed
clear enough to
see His star
blazing in the night sky?
do angels still sing while
bombs and shells explode?
is a stable even left
standing to hold a
manger?
does even one sheep
remain for a shepherd
to watch over?
and really, who am I to ask
such questions?
who am I to ask God
why suffering so deep
and dark and evil
is taking place
under the
very same moon
which glows gentle
over my warm home
and soft bed?
why them and not me?
and where is Christmas in this?
so what will be our answer?
if I was standing toe to toe
with a family from Aleppo
(or other places war-ravaged)
what would I say?
kneeling so as to be
eye level with the smallest
child,
how would
I explain the
unexplainable?
Christmas is here
because Jesus is here.
Jesus is the baby in the manger.
He is mercy and grace and love.
He is holding every heart in
this world so broken.
He is peace
where no peace
exists.
He is light
where all is dark.
The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness can never
extinguish it." John 1:5
promises the heart can cling to.
Jesus came to bring light.
Jesus is that Light
and darkness can
never snuff Him out.
yet can a family suffering
horrors unspeakable
grasp what is truth?
when fear and terror
wrapped in hopelessness
prevail,
words alone,
although
powerful,
are not
enough.
I certainly do not have
answers wise enough.
I just know that we who
kneel at the manger
and worship Jesus
and celebrate
His birth
cannot look the
other
way.
the baby in the manger brought
light to everyone.
and that includes every single person
crushed in the crowd desperate for
a little food and
living in fear and trying to escape
when the guns and bombs are
silent for just a moment,
and if fortunate enough
to escape, are now
refugees.
no home. no country.
and winter grips.
this. is. reality.
and I cannot look the other way.
I must do my part,
no matter how small,
to be a reflection of the
Light of
Christmas.
the precious
priceless
Christmas Rose.
lying in a manger
fresh and untouched.
petals still tightly closed,
the new bud lies waiting.
waiting for life to unfold.
the Christmas Rose.
so full of promise.
so full of love.
so full of life.
yet He knew.
He knew that as each petal
slowly
opened,
reaching
for
the
Light,
His life would not be one of ease.
the beauty
carried with it a price.
thorns covered the stem
of the Christmas Rose.
as each crimson petal
would eventually
f
a
l
l
to the ground,
many were crushed
beneath the feet of those
who despised our
Christmas Rose.
who rejected our
Christmas Rose.
the life of the precious
priceless
Christmas Rose
would be cut
short.
His crimson blood would flow
for you.
for me.
the fragile bud
lying in the manger on that
first Christmas night
was the
Savior
of the
world.
embrace that Christmas Rose,
remembering that to embrace Him
you will inevitably be pierced by
the thorns.
yet the beauty of His birth
and life,
the pain of His death,
the glory of His resurrection,
make any wound incurred
a privilege to bear.
for He sacrificed all.
our precious
priceless
Christmas Rose.
