In the words of famous author, and noted atheist, H.G. Wells, “I am an historian, I am not a believer, but I must confess as a historian that this penniless preacher from Nazareth is irrevocably the very center of history. Jesus Christ is easily the most dominant figure in all history.” As a Christian I of course concur. And yet… despite the history-changing life of Christ, despite dividing asunder B.C. and A.D., despite dividing asunder the beating heart of one such as me, I’m weary.
Like Israel of long ago, and like the Jews of today, I’m still looking. The seemingly boundless joy and enthusiasm of the early days of my faith are sin-smeared, and tainted with a world-weary cynicism. Will He ever return? His grace, it is said, is sufficient; His strength perfected in weakness. And whither the joy unspeakable, and full of glory–the half never yet been told? Days bleed into days, into weeks, months, years.
Until they all seem the same. Sufficient unto the day is the trouble thereof, He said. And boy He wasn’t kidding! The problems stack up, and no matter how many get resolved, they come again and again and again. I can’t get ahead; rather, I’m treading water to keep from sinking. Every issue addressed is a pyrrhic victory; everything old comes ’round again…
There’s got to be more!
I’m not ungrateful, but I am tired. Life feels a weary slog through the mire. And with the weary world I watch waiting for that star to shine again over Bethlehem.
Shine, Jesus, shine! We in this vail of tears need Your light again. Won’t you shine some light today? Or must we, like Israel, continue to wait?
Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight, and sin is no more. When You are the only light. When there is no more famine, nor peril, nor nakedness, nor disease, nor slavery… when there are no more tears.
Until then, we wait.