The Gift

I thought I'd share a story with you--hopefully, in this season of wonder, I won't let the sheer astonishment of redemption through the most unlikely means fail to stir in me a hope of redemption in my own unlikely story. After all, if God used an impoverished baby born in obsecurity to usher in the grandest, most everlasting kingdom--to redeem the curse-- there's simply no telling what He'll use in my life--and yours- to "repay the years the locusts have eaten---" (Joel 2:25). So, Hope is allowing me to tell her story. Its a beautiful illustration of redemption. I feel as though I know it well enough to tell it in first person. And no, the irony of a name is not lost on me, either. So, the story--I'll tell it as if its my own.

I have not been this upset in a long time. So much so that by the time I hung up the phone with Mom my face had completely broken out with an acne rash. Great, now I'm pissed off and I look like I have some contagious disease. On my face. That's hard to hide. Probably easier than the fury that I'm feeling,though. Every single holiday offers my older sister the opportunity to find creative ways to hurt others in the family. Before I completely explode in rage and berate those closest I know I need to call our closest family friend, Joshua. Joshua has been a mentor to Jake and I since we were first married. Surely, with as many years of living as he has acquired--he could offer some advice. You don't get to be 81, deeply love Jesus, and not have wisdom. So I called. He must have heard the exasperation in my voice because the first thing he said was, "calm down, Hope-- it surely isn't as bad as you sound."

"Really?" I almost yelled. Then, in one venomous spew, I rehashed years of grievances against my sister. Most recently, she had proceeded to cause further family division by hosting a Halloween costume party and only inviting half the family. . . she constantly changed our family's traditions on a whim to suit her own passive-aggressive tendencies. . . she lies constantly, don't even get me started about the lies. I have never known anyone that self centered, except----I don't know how long the diatribe went on but Joshua listened intently, even seeming concerned, which by the time I was all wound up I was sure had to be insincere because who in their right mind would care about this kind of crap. I was over it. And I made that clear. I was done trying to function as a "normal" family--over it!! OVER IT!! Nobody should force themselves to get together for a fake family Christmas when deep inside you really want to cuss another family member out. Okay, maybe not cuss (surely Christians can stand above the fray on this). . . no, come to think about it, some people only understand a good cussing. . .

"When did this start" Joshua's fragile words jolted me out of my monologue.

"What do you mean when did this start" I said. "It's been going on for years. . .she just keeps getting more creative with her ways of hurting us."

Joshua speaks softly, "this time, Hope. When did this anger surface this time? What happened?"

"I was recently reminded of a couple of events, that's all. But its a long story and I'm sure the other person didn't mean anything by it. . . and I just kept mulling it over. Weird--really, sorta out of nowhere. . . and I couldn't let it go" I sighed realizing my culpability in the current family drama.

Sensing my pause, Joshua continued, "Then what did you do?"

I explained to Joshua that I had simply called Sam (my younger brother) and our Mom and explained what all had happened, though none of it was new. But my anger was new and I wasn't sure now, talking to Joshua, why that was. With just a few questions he was making me question the cause of this fury. All of this stuff had happened weeks ago. Why now was I so "over it"? I was justified and Mom and Sam agreed. Our sister was selfish and she lied and everything I spewed out had validation. Sure, Jesus said to forgive. He said to leave your gift at the alter and go be reconciled--but He also said to shake the dust off your feet if those around you don't accept His message. . .surely that's applicable here. The next words that broke the silence nearly sent me over the edge and I wasn't sure whether to hang up the phone or cuss Joshua out.

"Let it go, Hope. . .let it go" then he was silent.

"Let it go?. . . I'll be damned if I'll let it go. I went through this for years with my dad and I swore then and I swear now no one else in my life is going to be allowed". . . I had to trail off before I could no longer choke back the sobs.

"Thank Him for this gift", he whispered.

What in the hell is wrong with this man. Joshua have you been drinking? Are you that senile? What?

He continued, "Hope, do you remember the story of Joseph?" What, an old testament Bible lesson. I could give a crap about Joseph or Abraham or Isaac or any of that right now!

"Yes, Joshua I've heard that story since I was a child. . .but really right now I just need"

"Quiet, child. . .listen to me. God gave Joseph a gift, and to everyone around-- even Joseph-- it seemed like God had cursed him. One calamity--one injustice after another. But God was using those "injustices" to save a family-- to save Joseph. I know what your thinking, Hope. Of course you think you would do things differently. Our pride convinces us we know better than God".

"So your saying that if I endure this crap I'll eventually rule over a lot of folks and be the hero of this messed up family--like Joseph?" I said, sarcasm dripping.

"Probably not, Hope" he was always gracious and kind.

"I'm simply saying that you don't yet know the end of the story-- you don't know how God is going to work it out. But He is, Hope and He's working it out for your good. And your sister's'".

"So, what should I do? Are you saying that I need to continue to let her walk all over me, and our mom?"

"As hard as this will be, you must give up trying to work this out. You must release your grip. Give God the opportunity to defend you. Simply love--the way Jesus loves you. Outcomes are up to God--to work out in His was and in His time. Remember, Job didn't know the whole story and chances are--you don't either. You know Hope, your sister is not the only sinner in all this".

"I know Joshua. . . I stir up strife. I rehearse the pain from years of . . . I'm not sure how to heal. . I need to move forward . . . to find my all in His love for me, not. . .

"Hope, even now God wants to offer you a gift in this, while you wait for Him to complete His work."

"Really, what's the gift?" I ask. . . certain that if it's anything like Joseph's I don't want it.

"Hope, you always remind me that one of your least favorite points of theology is the 'fellowship of His sufferings', right?

"Yes, Joshua if I could clip those verses from Holy Writ, you know I would."

"Well that you can't Hope, not safely anyway," he chuckled "but you can accept the gift. . .you can identify with Jesus in feeling misunderstood and rejected. Jesus' most intense suffering was not the physical beatings He took. . .it was the soul beating of friends. His family. His own wouldn't even receive him, remember? God's "workers"--those who should have recognized Him--the priests. . . they conspired to kill Him. And certainly I don't want you to over dramatize this hurt. There is much more suffering in the world than this. Peter couldn't drink the cup that Jesus had to drink and Hope. . ."

"I know, Joshua I couldn't-- I wouldn't--- even take a sip" I said, tears streaming.

"Just take the gift, and thank the Giver. If you can thank Him in this then Satan's power is lost. You acnowledge He redeems. You live the fact that He is your redemption, Hope. I need to go now. But I believe that your Enemy brought this up for a reason. You'll need to figure that one out with the help of Jesus. But I'm confident, Hope that soon you'll call me and shout, 'Joshua Satan meant that hurt to harm me. . . but Joshua, God used it to accomplish. . . ' I look forward to hearing what it is".

"Are you kidding me Joshua?. . . you think I would yell and get all dramatic. . .?"

We both burst out in laughter.

"Merry Christmas, Hope."

"Merry Christmas, Joshua. . . give my love to your family".

The baby born--the God-child comes. And we sing:

No more let sins and sorrows grow,

Nor thorns infest the ground;

He comes to make His blessings flow

Far as the curse is found.

(Isaac Watts)

If your family is feeling the effects of sin and sorrow. He comes. And you will feel His Presence.

Merry Christmas,

Wondering down the road,

Joy