Hope in Something Greater

Nothing has taught me more about the futility of life than mothering young children. There are definite moments of great joy, and the all over calm and love that comes with nurturing little lives. Yet there are also definite moments of … to put it spiritually, feeling quite Ecclesiastes-ish. Knocking knuckles with ol’ King Solomon.

More often than I’d like to admit, I find myself wallowing in the idea that my work is futile. In cases such as spending much time meal planning, shopping and cooking … only to have children crying over the vegetables, gagging down their allotted four bites, throwing food on the floor, with the meal finished in a matter of minutes. Or, spending all afternoon scrubbing toilets, sinks and tubs, only to have Travis’ shavings sprinkled on the counter the next morning and Summer’s spit from brushing teeth sprayed across the mirror. Or Travis and I sweating over hard conversations Sunday evenings, battling to remain close and on the same page, only to have the work week wipe us out with 12+ hour days and business trips, rendering us in the same position we found ourselves the weekend before.


Futility. Does anything I do matter? And what does this have to do with Christmas?

I thought of that very thing today. Or rather, what does Christmas have to do with my everyday life? Because I know it should matter to my everyday life. More than the tree, the lights and the good-smelling candles. Amid my cooking and cleaning, and going about menial tasks, the Lord was good to bring three thoughts to my mind about what Christmas continues to mean for me, today:

1. It gives me a hope of something greater. I think of the people that came before Christ. How they waited and waited for even just a prophet to speak from God. They had the hope of a Messiah. But still, He had not yet come. And then 400 years passed between Malachi and the birth of Christ. Emmanuel’s birth gives me hope. Although this life may be futile, He has come and overcome the world. There is something more.

2. Christmas, and all the events leading up to and surrounding it, showcase one important memo: God chooses and uses unimportant, “meaningless” and lowly people –such as myself–to get His story told. Think of Mary, Bethlehem, the shepherds, etc. Nobody important, no big town, no high-ranking people. This shows me He can, does and will continue to use me and my ho-hum, futile life.

3. Lastly, my mind is brought to the stanza in “O Little Town of Bethlehem”:

Yet in thy dark streets shineth

The Everlasting Light,

The hopes and fears of all the years

Are met in thee tonight.

Every hope and fear, from Adam’s first beating heart to the quiet but steady thumping of the unborn baby’s heart, was met that dark night over 2,000 years ago. Because hope was born. A hope of something more than just this life. Hope in now knowing the end of the story. And if we love Him, that baby lying in a manger, we live to showcase that hope.

Therefore, may I showcase that hope through my futile, yet hopeful life. May we all showcase it to our children, the grocer, our neighbors, our co-workers, and all we come in contact with. Because Christmas is not futile. No, not ever.

Jenny Fugler

Posted on: December 4, 2014 - 11:32AM

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