Prisoners of Hope

Have you ever imagined the holidays would look a certain way only to discover that the reality is a far cry from your idealistic daydreams? It might be my own fault for screen-shotting delightful festive season ideas from Pinterest, but that’s another story. It’s Christmas time and our family is together – parents, siblings, spouses and all of our beautiful children. With a little bit of airbrushing we could look like something on the front page of a family magazine; our relaxed pose oozing with vibrant health, longevity and priceless generational bonds, but we do not.

A ferocious flu type bug has swept through like a storm, knocking one after another down like felled trees in a pine forest. Fevers, restless nights, lost appetites, sleep-filled days and weakness have all contributed to the fact that the mince pies I bought ten days ago are still uneaten and have been banished to the freezer. The decorations only went up days before the weekend, and they are all in a rather pitiful state after years of use. We probably thought the same last Christmas, and we probably said we should buy some new ones, and then we probably packed them all away into the big Christmas basket to deal with another time. The Christmas tree usually lives in the garden and is revolting at being moved into the house. It looks like it has been on a terrible journey and is about to be carsick. The toddlers keep biting one another. One wailed that the other one was “eating” her but it can’t have been too bad because a short time later she proceeded to ‘eat” one of the others. We haven’t sung carols together but have discussed at length what the best consequence is for those convicted of behaving like cubs in a pride of lions. One family member fell off the swing and broke her arm and a dear friend has spent Christmas in hospital, bravely fighting for her life. It’s been raw. It’s been harsh. It’s been real. It’s been fragile and exquisite. After a few minor wobbles, we have simply chosen to roll with the punches. The waves come and we let them take us. The baby threw a bauble and it exploded into a million pieces and that’s okay, he thought it was a ball. We will not let dashed expectations, disappointments, worry and self-pity ruin the fact that we are together. We will not be taken captive by despair. We will not give up hoping for a better day and we are having Christmas no matter what!

One lies on a daybed, fearful of missing out, covered with a blanket to still the chills and cream up her nose to deal with the cold sores. Two stand in their nightgowns in the kitchen mid morning, preparing the food they are in charge of for this tribe. Hair is unbrushed for the most part, like an assortment of birds’ nests on display. The children have consumed far too much sugar and we aren’t sure exactly who has brushed their teeth. We wipe noses, drape blankets over the poorly ones and make hot drinks for one another. When one is not well enough to drive, another drives for her. We are powerless to mend our friend who is in hospital but we pray constantly for divine healing and we scoop her son in to be with us as if he is our own. We get word that she is doing well and is up and walking when others in her position would still be passed out on pain medication. She was given the option of surgery after Christmas but chose to face the giant rather than retreat. She took fairy lights with her and she has never stopped smiling in it all and I can see why she goes from strength to strength. I’ve heard that sometimes all it takes is one stone to topple a giant.

Like marriage, we live out a deeply meaningful love story as a wider family. We show with our words and actions that we will love one another in the good times as well as the bad. Each brick of patience, self-sacrifice, honour and commitment layed down builds our fortress of unity and love. And it’s to this place of refuge that we come running back to time and time again, perfect Christmas picture or not. The scene on the front of the magazine is not a designer home, pleasing to the eye; it’s a strong tower, it’s a light house, it’s a castle. We keep building it and opening it’s door to our family, our friends and to strangers who just might be angels in disguise.

Zechariah 9 verse 12 “Return to your fortress, you prisoners of hope; even now I announce that I will restore twice as much to you.”

Comments


Leave a Reply

Write your comment and name to leave a reply. Comments will display once approved by the author.