One thing I’ve noticed as I get older is how much sorrow there is in life, how many dissappointments, broken promises and lost loves; how much irresolution and open endedness and ambiguity there all is, not just in my own life but in the lives of others. Everyone is wounded by something, by some ill spoken word or deed that plunged them into a life of loneliness, regret and living in the past; by their own fears of failure or inadequacy; by the demons of self doubt and addiction or by any other form of darkness or shadow that haunts the hearts and souls of men everywhere.

I see it everyday at the hospital I work, the dashed hopes of patients and loved ones who realize that their treatments are not working, that despite the best medical science can offer they are still going to die sometimes slow undignified painful deaths from the ravages of cancer and chemotherapy. I see grown men in tears wasting away and youths so broken hearted and distraught at what can seem the traumatic finality of death that they fall in paroxysms of grief on the floor. There’s hope too, but it’s always tempered by death, estrangement and dissolution, the consequences of Adams sin.

Somehow for me there’s been a thread of sorrow that has pretty much woven a tapestry of my life, and yet my faith is what keeps me going, my faith that somehow despite all the messiness and pain of my own life and the lives of others there is a resolution and a restoration of all things in Christ.

I cannot prove this to anyone and yet it is so deeply a part of me that I cannot deny it. Advent and Winter are the great themes of our lives, and yet at the end of our longing there is peace, joy and resolution to all that darkness. This is something I’m convinced of .




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