As we near the end of the year and as I get older, I find myself spending more time processing all that I experienced throughout the year. The highs, the lows and the in-betweens are all coming to an end with a hearty “Happy New Year!” As I process, I find myself wondering (and sometimes worrying), “What am I going to face next year?”
For me, 2023 was a year marked by worry. The year began by being displaced from my apartment because of pipes that burst. Then, my car got stolen and a few months later, I got the news that my grandma was involved in a hit-and-run. From April to August, I was consumed with anxiety. She was in and out of the hospital during those months until the beginning of August. While we were visiting her in September, she was admitted into hospice. Then in October, she went to be with the One for whom her heart longed for the most, Jesus.
For me, 2023 was marked by immense suffering that ultimately found its resolution when we buried my grandma the days following Thanksgiving.
The holidays are a perfect example of contrast. On one hand, you have images of a cozy fireplace, hot chocolate and warm dinners with loved ones, and it’s all together beautiful. On the other, you have cold, frigid weather and it seems like nature has had its life stripped away. It’s lonely, quiet and it’s hard. If you find yourself resonating with my story or are experiencing a season of suffering this holiday season, I am so sorry. My heart breaks for you, my heart breaks with you and my heart is with you.
2023 held one of the hardest holiday seasons in recent memory but there were glimmers of hope that were gifts from the Lord, and I hope and pray that these words are life for you.
There were times that summer that I would be in my room, on the phone with my sister and we would be weeping, together. The thought of losing our grandma was difficult to comprehend so we would go to the Lord in prayer. We would pray for healing, whether this side of heaven or a full, and better, healing with him. We had our preferences, and it was hard. On one specific call, I remember praying, “Lord, I know that our tears will not be wasted.” As I prayed this, I began to weep even more, and Revelation 21 came to mind.
And I heard a loud voice come from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” -Rev 21:3-5
This verse which I had heard multiple times brought me hope and rest that could only come from Jesus. My suffering is not in vain because of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus and of what’s to come. He has conquered death and given us life in and through him. This is our hope for those in Christ Jesus that is offered to all. Jesus is kind, and near and he knows what suffering is. It’s his heart to bear the weight of it because this world is not as it should be. It’s stained by sin but friends, there is a day when he will return and make all things new. In this season of waiting, it’s okay to weep and long for a day when sin is no more because it is indeed coming. It’s a matter of when not if.
I imagine that the God of the universe is going to kneel, lift my head, and wipe away all of my tears like that of a father wiping the tears of his son. All my past tears, my present tears and my future tears will be wiped away by a God who loves me more than I could ever imagine. God has given himself fully to us and we can give ourselves fully to him. He will not turn you away. Your tears will not be wasted. I pray that in this season, you run to the one whose arms are open wide, ready to take your suffering from you and give you rest, a better rest than the world can offer. It’s free and it’s full. Spring is coming.
This year was the first year that I did not get to hear my grandma’s voice say, “Happy Birthday,” and it will be the second time that I won’t be able to hear her say, “Happy Thanksgiving,” “Merry Christmas,” or “Happy New Year.” Oh, how I long to hear her voice again, and I know that I will. I find comfort in the last verse of “How Great Thou Art.”
“When Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart
Then I shall bow, in humble adoration
And then proclaim, my God how great thou art.”
When Christ, the lifter of my head, returns and death is no more, I will get to be with my grandma again and we will both bow down and proclaim “My God, how great thou art.” Until then, I cling to Jesus, who is kind and near and reigning as King. I hope this season, you do too.