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December 14
When I was 14 years old my dad and step-mom were separated for a time. My dad and I moved out of the house and were able to find a series of temporary lodging through our church and friends. As my dad worked to repair his relationship with his wife, there were times where I spent the day or overnight by myself. I remember waking up and realizing that my dad had not come back home that night. I remember feeling alone and abandoned in that moment. The one not chosen, rejected. I see now that he was doing the best he could with the situation but it was still painful.
While I can attune a portion of the experience, in truth I’ve never been truly exiled. I’ve never been surprised as war comes to my neighborhood, never fled on foot with just my family and the clothes on my back. I’ve never been held captive, as a slave or a hostage or under the control of an oppressive government. I’ve never experienced the pain of loss, humiliation and degradation in the ways that many people / groups throughout history have encountered oppression and violence.
But…as I read in Psalm 126 of a hope for renewal, repair and respite, of laughter, songs and joy, I’m reminded that the “God of Israel” is not just for Israel of the Old Testament, but is Yahweh, Lord of All. I am chosen, you are chosen. When I think about a world filled with war, I’m reminded that Yahweh, Lord of All is the Lord of Israel and Palestine, the Fur, Masalit and Zaghawa in Sudan, the Ukrainian and Russian peoples, the immigrants seeking safety, the descendants of slavery and treaty violations, those who have been colonized and have lost so much of their culture. I know that religion has played major roles in all sides of conflict but I cling to the hope of ALL people returning from exile. I pray that they(we) remember, in their hearts and bones, that they are chosen and loved and though the world groans under the weight of sin, that the Lord of All is drawing the world to redemption.
During Advent, we sing songs of a light in the darkness, streams in a desert, fields of bounty. Our joy in times of grief, loss, fear and abandonment is that we are not abandoned. We choose to believe in Hope.
Canaan Crane