Holy Familiarity

We watched the snow fall on the eve of Christmas eve. In a matter of an hour, the entire ground was covered in white and it felt like a familiar Christmas of the past. 

Familiar - an attribute we all have craved for and sought for this last year. Just a month ago, my dad was in the ICU with Covid. His hospitalization and healing was considered "normal" by nurses and doctors. The healing is slow and gradual, requiring trust in the healing and hope in the future. It is only another opportunity to depend on His mercies and His love as our Creator and Redeemer.

Less than a month ago, my anxious heart wondered what Christmas would look like for my family. Would Dad still be in the hospital alone? Multiple times my heart would ask the question, "Will Dad still be here?" By His unending mercies, I got to watch and appreciate the first snowfall of the year with my dad this Christmas. He was here. I soaked in every familiar moment, conversation, tradition we did this Christmas, knowing God's answer to my question was one full of mercy, love, and glory.

As we quietly gazed out of the window to see the wooded backyard turn white, I noticed and appreciated the imagery of the small, red stained glass cross hanging in the middle of the window. 

Through and in every moment, there is the Cross. With the Cross, every familiar interaction, memory, and moment becomes a grace-filled gift. The Cross was right in the middle of every conversation the nurses had with my dad, encouraging him to believe in his recovery when he was feeling the closeness of death. In every sleepless but prayer-filled night, the Cross was in the middle, bearing my suffering in order to return hope and redemption. The Cross is where the Son of God met and absorbed suffering, pain, and sin. In our suffering, we are reminded of the Cross and the ultimate love it shows. In our joy, we are reminded of the Cross and the redemption it brings. And in our familiar living, the Cross belongs right in the middle of it, shedding light on the gifts, mercies, and redemption we receive moment to moment. 

Without the Cross, we would have just been watching the snow fall, feeling "lucky" for a steady recovery and time together. But with the Cross, we are watching the snow fall, appreciating the miraculous and merciful gift of medical work, health care workers, family, creation, and another year on this side of heaven. See, with the Cross, all of life's moments - tragic, joyful, or familiar - are covered and redeemed as holy. In Dad's sickness, we were given the gift to truly rely and trust in God's healing and mercy. We were given the gift of the body of believers who provided prayers and faith-filled encouragment. In Dad's healing, we were given the gift of deep thanksgiving, understanding all blessings are undeserved and given by grace. In watching the snowfall, we were given the gift of seeing our Creator disguised through nature. The Cross is where God met humanity. Through and in the Cross, we are given a life of holy suffering, holy joy, and holy familiarity. 

May the Cross intercede through our familiar living to show others ultimate love, glorified suffering, and fulfilled hope. May we never cease to see the Cross in familiar moments, never ceasing to give thanks. May the Cross be in the middle, interceding God's love, through our  suffering, our joy, and our familiar living.