Hope

 December 12, 2020

Even in our COVID-conscious world where people are afraid to mingle, small town traditions are thankfully hard to break. Last month at our village board meeting, we discussed whether or not to have our annual Christmas in the park, with Santa, hot chocolate and cider, gifts and cookies for the kids. A number of area municipalities scratched this year’s observance, but we decided that if Santa was willing to come, we would do our best to hold steady. I’m glad we did.

Park church had a live Nativity, we set up for Santa, and he arrived right on time. Parents and their kids lined up, sporting a variety of masks, and we held forth with hot chocolate, hot cider, coffee, and cookies. People hung around in small groups, chatting as they watched the Nativity or waited properly spaced for Santa. The only thing missing this year was Park church’s hot dog and chili dinner at the firehall, but pastor Joe already has ideas about how to bring it back better than ever next year. 

In a year where everything we know has been turned on its head, it’s good to see some things remain. Fortunately, this is true in even more significant ways. This morning I was reading in Psalm 42: “My tears have been my food day and night while they continually say to me, “Where is your God?” When I remember these things, I pour out my soul within me, for I used to go with the multitude; I went with them to the house of God with a voice of joy and praise.” 

The despondency we feel over restrictions and quarantines is. not new to human experience. The writer remembers joyful worship that is no more, and weeps, heartbroken. Then he shifts gears by asking himself, “Why are you cast down, O my soul? Why are you disquieted within me?” It’s almost as if he wakes up and realizes that when life has taken an unexpected turn, dwelling on the past only leads to discouragement and depression, so he shakes himself and changes his focus from the past to the future: “Hope in Go, for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance.” He reminds himself that God has not forgotten, so he chooses to praise. Circumstances haven’t changed, but his perspective has. He still cannot gather with others in the house of God, but his own connection with the Lord sustains him.

It’s not an easy stance to take. As an introvert, I never realized how much I depended on others. I can’t imagine how hard things have been for the extroverts. God is pressing me to lean directly on him alone, even when I cannot see the outcome. I have a choice to either mope and gripe or to obey God’s simple command: “Hope in God,” and trust that in doing so, I will again praise him joyfully.