A Thrill of Hope

I sat gazing at the Christmas tree, its blinking lights symbolic of the war within me. BLINK. I absolutely love Christmas; it’s my favorite time of the year.  BLINK.  I suffer from ulcerative colitis; it cares not about holidays.  BLINK.  There’s nothing more magical and spiritual than celebrating our Savior’s birth.  BLINK.  Christmas with colitis?  BLINK.

O Holy night, the stars are brightly shining

I played Monopoly with my daughter and read books to my son.  We snuggled on the couch and watched our favorite movies together.  I tried to pretend that I didn’t know what was coming, but I had been through it too many times to deny it.  After I tucked my little loves into bed, I let it wash over me.  The disappointment, the despair, the tears that could do nothing to thwart yet another UC flare-up.

It is the night of our dear Savior's birth

In sixteen years, I’ve never asked WHY ME?  Not once.  Yet this Christmas I’ve never come so close to screaming those words aloud.  At the last second, I managed instead a strangled WHY NOW?

Long lay the world in sin and error pining

I wrapped gifts with Christmas music playing softly in the background and clung to my faith more tightly than ever.  I counted my blessings.  I reminded myself that I still had life, still had possibilities, even if my hope was fading.  I couldn’t cure my disorder, but there were medicines that could curb its symptoms.  Sure, the steroids might trigger the dreaded and bloated moon face, might add pounds to my weak body, might grow hair in unwanted places and flavor food with the taste of metal.  So what? I was alive.  I was happy. 

'Til He appeared and the soul felt its worth

I’ve always known this was my cross to bear, and for sixteen years I’ve borne it bravely.  I just never realized that I had yet to truly accept that this cross would be a lifelong struggle, or to realize that it might get worse as I aged, rather than better.

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices

Then I heard the song drifting through my holiday-laden house, and I truly listened.  Then my tears—bitter, desperate, despairing—turned to ones of hope.  He was born and died for me.  He would help carry my burden.  All I had to do was let Him.

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn

I am the first one to admit I get caught up in the holiday hype.  I will also throw myself the most lavish pity party when another UC flare-up visits me.  I am selfish, flawed, and often wayward.  I always say I know the real reason for the season, but I never really felt it in such a raw way until this year.

Fall on your knees

My hope did waver this year; it was a thin thread amongst my candy canes, winter  boots, and mounting depression.  I was angry about my health issues.  I was frustrated.  I was hopeless.  Yes, I loved my family and counted my blessings, but I was still lost.  It wasn’t until a simple song reached out to me, and He found me again.  That was my holy night, and I hope it gives me strength in the battle to come.  No, I know it will.

 

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."