All this life has me wearied. All this anger and frustration and yelling and eating that which doesn’t satisfy – it’s left me so over it all. I’m tired of all the brokenness. All the things always running out. I’m tired of all my brokenness and all my always running out. Sin sick as some seasoned saints might say. And even though the Christmas lights sparkle and twinkle, making artificial merriment, all the glow but no real warmth, I don’t feel very festive. This doesn’t feel very much like Christmas. How will I move from this weariness to Christmas joy? But as I read ancient Isaiah, those oh so familiar messiah verses pointing us to the Prince child born for Peace, I read through the surrounding words – words of darkness and destruction and weariness. The familiar, rejoicing prophecy words behold the virgin shall conceive and call his name Immanuel and unto us a child is born unto us a son is given of his peace there shall be no end are enmeshed with war, trembling, shaking, fierce anger, devouring, without compassion. In this world, light shines brightest in the dark. Light a sharp contrast to this weary and wearying world. But maybe this weariness weighing heavy makes the best anticipation for his coming, for his Christmas birth. What better place to be right now, right here, than feeling the fullness of this world’s – of my – brokenness? No better vantage point to experience God with Us. Emmanuel.
