My suitcase sits at the end of my bed. I rarely put it away because I like to be ready for the next adventure. It’s not reckless travel behavior during Covid. It is an integral part of my emergency preparedness act. It’s a response mode for how I operate just within this family of mine. I go to them. I go with them. I go for them. I despise going without them, but I will. They know this. A suitcase waiting at the end of my bed is symbolic of this willingness to go. Travel this holiday season was different, and if I was going, it was on fumes provided by the grace of God. I couldn't slow down to fuel my soul. Unfortunately, I did not get myself to church for any Advent Sunday sermons. Between work, finals, and family obligations, I allowed my fellowship and worship to suffer. For the first time in my life, I did not see the Advent candles or sing the songs or hear about Mary’s journey or the angels. I could try to boast that I read devotions each day, but I didn’t. I lost my footing on the firm foundation of His word. Covid and fear robbed me of my ability to feel the guiding presence of God the way I have in the past. Only by the grace of God and my family's help did I manage those four weeks. I did not watch our Advent traditions at church, but I was blessed to still experience it. The hope, love, peace, and joy of God sustained me even though I did not always do my part. God is good like that. I continued to pray even if I didn’t go to church. Christmas music was unusually special. Thanks to my work neighbor Tasha, I heard Christmas music each time there was a break in her schedule. God found me where I was working hardest and wrapped me in beautiful music. During the first week of Advent, I prayed for whatever was on my heart, and God would send O Holy Night at different times during my day. I heard the line thrill of hope over and over. I was only hoping I could survive with grace during the stress of papers, grading, and meetings. God reminded me to seek more- to seek the thrill of hope. The second weekend of December, I felt amazing love from all corners of my universe as I celebrated my birthday. My daughter brought extended family together for a birthday zoom. I finished taking final exams, decorating my house for the Christmas season, and glimpsing the end of extra responsibilities. I treasured every special moment with my people. His everlasting love was revealed to me in big and small ways. On the third weekend, one of Peace, I was in Clayton with Mama and Daddy. Our time was spent just being with them and helping however they needed. I saw peace reflected in two parents who are proud to share blessings with their girls and their families. The fourth weekend, the Sunday of Joy, the bags rode to South Carolina to see my daughter, her husband, and their coastal home decorated for Christmas. We enjoyed the joy of laughter of sisters and cousins and daughters. Elise and Matt created an incredible Christmas dinner. I sat at her table and wanted to cry with joy mixed with relief. I had dreamed this future for her, a future of her own home full of her doing her thing and doing it beautifully. Thrill of hope is our Christmas promise for 2021. I don’t necessarily need normal again, but I do need something to hold on to that makes sense. 2020 taught me lessons in faith I’ve never imagined-lessons that humbled and redirected me and made realize it was time for me to say I’m sorry, Lord. On this New Year’s Eve, I will remember my faith. I will say thank you for good times and tough ones. No resolutions. Just faith. The thrill of hope is realizing that God’s provision is perfect. I have missed that thrill of hope. My response to this unprecedented season of Christmas is simple. I will go forward with the thrill of hope. I will hold fast to His promise of Christmas and tell of His goodness. I will continue to pray for my family, for my friends who are struggling, for my students, for forgiveness and determination to go to church to hear His word and have wonderful conversations with others. I did manage to get myself to church the Sunday after Christmas. I believe I will take Keith Parks’ advice and say each morning of 2021… “Lord, I give You this day. Use it for Your glory.” Happy New Year to you all!
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JoAnna Arnold
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