Slightly Obsessed #013 - "Have No Fear" by Pamela Thorson on 2012-12-12 16:29:42
Come, have no fear,
God’s Son is here
-What Child Is This?
By William Chatterton Dix
The voice on the other end of the phone cracks with emotion. I pause to allow time for composure to come. I’m fighting to keep mine.
Another person I love is in pain. There have been too many of these kinds of calls lately.
It’s intense out there. The trials are relentless. Emotions are raw. The season’s glitter seems to amplify the doubts and discouragement assaulting Christ’s body.
I see it in their eyes. I hear it in their voices.
The saints are weary.
That’s why I thank God for Christmas. Forget the presents, the tree, the expectations of season’s greetings and jingle bells. My tree still isn’t decorated and I doubt I’ll get cards out this year. The presents aren’t wrapped either. But I still feel like celebrating.
I rejoice because God has come to save the day. I lift a halleluiah to the sky because our Deliverer is born. We are no longer orphans who cower against the darkness in fear. We are not lost, after all. This suffering is only for a short time; eternity has dawned in our hearts and a forever without death awaits us. I celebrate Christmas because Easter is on its way.
The Bible gives us the ultimate good-versus-evil story, the one about the Prince on a white horse who comes just time to rescue His beloved. He’s the beginning and ending to every life’s drama. He’s the only real reason life is worth living. His coming split history in half and made our every loss bearable, our every day a gift, and our future secure.
Because He came, every day is Christmas.
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts,
to which indeed you were called in one body;
and be thankful.
About Pamela Thorson:
Pamela Thorson is a licensed practical nurse, author, and full-time caregiver. She pioneered in the homeschooling movement from 1982-2006 and authored her first book, Song in the Night, in 2008. She resides in the Northwest with her family.
In the gray dawn of another day, I am spent. I can pray no more. There are no more words I can say, no entreaty with which to reach my Master. As the night shadows fade before the rising sun, I open my Bible. In the space between darkness and light, I need to hear His voice.
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