An invitation in song
Every Christmas season it seems that a different song ministers to my heart. And each year it’s something I hang on to for the Christmas season, using it to help me keep focus and even learn a different perspective on this season that we think we all know so well by now.
A few years back, a song I had heard all my life, spoke to my heart in ways it never had. And this year, in a season of grief and weariness, I’m finding it ministering to me again.
The year of 2018 was a healing year for me. A year of discovering that I wasn’t as well as I thought I was and that asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness, but courage.
I came face to face with a diagnosis that I had misconceptions about, and even the thought that ‘it could never happen to me.’
Medication, counseling, alternative therapy, supplements, lots of reading, reflecting, and self discovery. Though it was a year of healing, it was extremely tiring.
The year of 2022 was a growing year for me. A year of realizing that solutions for long-term problems aren’t always simple, that even if you do all the right things – it doesn’t work out, and clinging to the hope of heaven is sometimes the only thing that will get you through a day.
Though it was a year of healing, it’s been extremely tiring.
Perhaps this year you are finding yourself in a very similar place. Maybe you’re even still waiting on the healing. You’re still looking for answers. Maybe you just got your answer and it’s not what you hoped and it’s enough to make you want to weep, lie down, and not get back up.
Hold on, there’s more.
Having walked through a dark valley, and truthfully, some days waking up to find myself right in the middle of it again, I can attest that to the fact that the sun is still shining despite the clouds.
With this year being what it was for many, maybe that is why these words seemed to speak directly to my heart. I’ve heard this song hundreds of times, I remember singing it from a very young age. But the words ring different to a middle aged woman than the young child of years past.
O ye beneath life’s crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow;
Look now, for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing;
Oh rest beside the weary road
And hear the angels sing.
“It Came Upon the Midnight Clear” by Edmund Sears
Did you catch that? Are you one who is struggling along the incline, feeling like it’s all an uphill climb? Does the weight you are carrying seem to get heavier with each step, causing you to move slower and slower, sometimes to the point that you wonder if you are going backwards? Here is a message for you:
You are not alone.
No matter how alone the Enemy may make you feel or be whispering it into your ear. You are NOT alone.
In fact, you are not the first one to be climbing this steep mountain. And there are many beside you climbing it right now as well. And we have each been given an invitation.
Rest. Even for a moment to catch your breath. Rest beside the weary road. It’s not saying we are going to leave it all behind and travel that lovely rose-strewn path. No, the weary road is still there.
But rest. Why?
For glad and golden hours come swiftly. Between all the flowery words of the 1800’s we can read hope.
Because this trial will not last forever. And in this moment of hard we can choose despair or we can choose hope. If we take a moment to rest, to hope, knowing that God promises to work ALL for GOOD, then we can keep marching on. Knowing better things ARE coming.
And as we rest beside that weary road then, perhaps, if we listen carefully, we can hear the angels sing.
And join in.