Christmas Eve is only three days away, and not a single decoration announces its coming.

We just can’t seem to muster the spirit of it all, to bring ourselves to celebrate in the face of immense despair. Just before Thanksgiving our family tragically lost the one person who managed to keep everything moving in a forward motion. The glue. The hurt is still fresh, as it was a mere five weeks ago. Presents she chose and wrapped for each of her loved ones were already sitting in wait, merrily singing her song of love.

And we feel that loss, desperately.

I have to wonder how, at this time of year, one manages to move on? Sure, we all go through the motions, making plans, attending parties, purchasing gifts and baking delicacies to share. But are we really living? Have we looked beyond our circumstance to see the real hope that is offered by what we actually celebrate during this season? It isn’t the hope of family gathered around, or the hope that the New Year will bring a better financial status. It isn’t hope for a better President or a job change that will bring more peace to our daily life.

The HOPE that we celebrate is the promise ushered in over two thousand years ago with the birth of a baby. That is real. That is LIFE. And that LIFE changed everything. I can’t help but notice the connection here. Life. Death. New life and the hope that it can bring to the hurting and the downtrodden. These are the knowable things of the world – the certain. Life. Death. We each have and will experience both before moving on to the promise that birth ushered in all those years ago.

To live without that knowledge is to live without HOPE.

How do people do it? Live without that hope? To believe that this is all there is? That once this life is lived and lost, there is nothing else?

The day after we lost our person, a song came on the radio as I drove down the street. No preamble, no partials of other songs. Brand new as the car sprang to life. Finally Home from Mercy Me. Have you ever heard it? The words go like this:

I’m gonna wrap my arms around my daddy’s neck
And tell him that I’ve missed him

And tell him all about the man that I became
And hope that it pleased him

There’s so much I want to say
There’s so much I want you to know

When I finally make it home
When I finally make it home

Then I’ll gaze upon the throne of the King
Frozen in my steps

And all the questions that I swore I would ask
Words just won’t come yet

So amazed at what I’ve seen
So much more than this old mind can hold

And the sweetest sound I’ve yet to hear

The voices of the angels

When I finally make it home

Tears immediately sprang forth. Tears of sorrow, turning to tears of understanding and then joy. She had finally made it home. We didn’t need to be sad for her. She was happy, she was safe. She was in the presence of the Mighty King of Glory, healed and whole. Sure we will miss her, but knowing that she is in the arms of her Savior made all the difference.

The song rang in my mind and in my heart throughout the day. Words of comfort, words of knowing, and words that brought me HOPE that one day we again would meet, and listen to the voices of the angels, together.

When I finally make it home.

-Have you lost someone dear to you? The holidays can be a particularly bad time, I know. I pray that these words will bring you comfort during this season of joy, and that they will encourage you to look ahead in anticipation of what is to come, made possible 2000 years ago.