In the past two weeks of political turmoil in Honduras, God has given me fresh eyes for a familiar story. Every year, this is the season in which I chase after that "feeling." The feeling of God's presence in such a precious time. The feeling of God's presence in preparing my heart for the celebration of the birth of his Son, Jesus Christ. I know in my head and heart that it is found in the truth of the Nativity story. It is not found in commercialism, lights, a tree, presents, silly songs, or my American (or Honduran) traditions.
The whole world groans in brokenness but it is evident before my very eyes in my host country. I see our sin and brokenness in the corruption of the government, in the impulsive violence as a response, in the death and destruction that has taken place in so many cities in the past two weeks. I literally hear the groaning of creation in the protests, in the yelling, and in the pot banging; the noise made by despondence, morose, and oppression. I see how selfishness taints the conversations and effects relationships among friends, acquaintances, and strangers alike. The genetics of depravity effect our thoughts, words, actions, and decisions on a daily basis. The brokenness is everywhere. A holy God would be just in turning His back on the brokenness He can not be a part of. But He didn't and He doesn't and He won't. Miraculously and mysteriously, He lavishes His sovereign grace on a rebellious people. We all are those rebellious people.
How did He lavish His grace and love upon us? He sent His Son. His Son, Jesus Christ, came into this messy rebellious world as an innocent helpless babe. A babe that would grow up, not in a palace in a mighty kingdom, but as a servant alongside his people. A babe who many would travel to meet. A babe who many would marvel then and now. A babe that grew to be a God-man that would humble himself to the point of death on a cross to save us. The story seems fundamental and imperative when suffering surrounds me on all sides. God's desire to wipe every tear away, to end all pain and affliction, to obliterate disease and death is palpable this year. The wonder of His love is ever-present on my mind. How he could love me, a sinner, is an amazing thing.
This year, I can sing, "He rules the world with truth and grace and makes the nations prove, the glories of His righteousness and wonders of His love" while a parade of grumbling people march down the next street. He is coming. We need Him to come. His coming fulfills a deep need in each of us. And He does it with truth and grace and righteousness. This year, I can read, "For to us a child is born, to us a Son is given, and the government will rest upon His shoulders," and find rest that the turmoil of politics here (and everywhere) is opposite of how my God reigns. He is perfectly just, merciful, and loving. He renews my mind with the reality of the sin in and around me but also the reality of His character and His love for us.
I admit, this is not how I would desire God to give me fresh eyes. I'd prefer something less dramatic, less painful than watching a people and country I love hurting. I'd prefer He just fill me with a fire to see the beautiful things anew. But God's plan is always better than my plan and He continues to reveal our ever-present need for that babe that He sent so long ago. So this year I wait in my brokenness with a renewed hope in the birth of Jesus Christ.
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