“So God has given both his promise and his oath. These two things are unchangeable because it is impossible for God to lie. Therefore, we who have fled to him for refuge can have great confidence as we hold on to the hope that lies before us. This hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls. It leads us through the curtain into God’s inner sanctuary.”
Hebrews 6:18-19
Lockdown #3 has been the hardest so far. Coming off the back of Christmas and New Year in Tier 4, meaning we were unable to see friends and family inside or out, it has felt particularly bleak. Long hours of darkness, combined with the rain and the cold that December and January gave us have meant more of a feeling of isolation. The only option of meeting one person outside for exercise isn’t possible when all daylight hours are taken up with home learning. The expectations from schools this time around are much higher. Work is taking much longer and much of it is computer-based, leading to higher levels of exhaustion.
In many respects, this lockdown should be better. We’ve been through this before for 17 weeks of school last year so we know how this thing works. This time around, provision has been made for Zach to continue going to school which helps his autistic brain to separate learning and relaxing much more easily than home learning did last time. He gets the support he needs to do his best work and then he gets to come home and switch off from work. I get to spend time teaching and supporting Miri, which she so lacked last time around. So, we’re incredibly thankful for that provision and for the staff who willingly support his needs.
As hard as it was the first time around, the message was that this was a short lived situation. We’d be out of it by Easter. Then half term. Then the summer would definitely see us freer and things would be back to normal by Christmas. Reality has shown that we’re in a worse situation now than we’ve ever been and the restrictions seem endless.
Last week, it all just felt too hard. What hit me most was watching friends in other countries making plans with actual dates on them and knowing those plans would take place. Seeing friends unrestricted by their governments, able to meet up with their families and friends, have people in their homes, live life in an almost normal manner, hug people, go places whenever they choose. It all felt unfair.
As I began to process these things with Father, He showed me that some of what I was feeling was a natural reaction. We are created to be relational beings and when our ability to interact with people is forcibly removed, it hurts our hearts. When that restriction has no end date, it feels endless. There is no point in time to work towards when we can know things will be “normal.” Phone calls, Zoom, video coffee dates are all great but they’re no substitute for human skin and life-giving contact. Our Creator designed us to work best in community and right now we are hugely restricted as to what that can look like. I felt Him comfort me in that.
I realised my hope had slipped! I had started to hope in restrictions being lifted, in our house move being completed, in big issues being resolved, in being able to walk in things I’m passionate about. I’d started to see everything as how it affected me and it started to feel like a personal assault against me. But I’m putting me at the centre and my hope in things far off, I’d moved away from how God designed me to work best. I needed to redress the balance, put Him back at the centre and put my hope in the rock solid anchor that is my Creator. This didn’t feel like a judgement moment of how wrong I’d got it. It felt like an “ah ha” moment where it suddenly became clear why things were so dark: in grasping at things all around me to hold onto, very gradually I’d turned away from the Light, casting everything I saw into shadow.
He also showed me that I had allowed some of my hurt to become resentment. Instead of taking it to Him as soon as I felt it and allowing Him to comfort me, I had buried it and it was turning into bitterness and resentment. He graciously showed me this so that I could see it and ask for His forgiveness. He doesn’t want resentment to be a part of my life because it’s not how I’ve been created to work best. In His immense grace, He forgave me and showed me a better way….and a better place for my hope to rest.
The Bible talks a lot about hope. I looked up multiple verses that address hope. Many of them are in the Psalms and that greatly encourages me. This record of people being really honest with God about how they felt is always a rich comfort to me. I am truly grateful that I can be honest with God about how I feel but also that He loves me so much that He wants to comfort me and move my view to be more in line with His.
Over the course of a few days of reading verses of hope and listening to worship songs like “Hold On” from St Aldate’s Worship (https://youtu.be/HL4RxynfNzc) on repeat, I felt my perspective shift and my hope begin to return. I realised at that point it had never really left, but having it placed somewhere other than on the One who knows my path and my future made it feel like I’d lost my hope. The hope offered by anything other than Jesus is empty, fleeting and decidedly unstable. It made me appreciate all over again my Rock, my Anchor, my Defender, the One who never changes, the One who gives me peace in the storm, my Friend who never leaves me nor forsakes me. And I found myself at peace. Not because my circumstances had changed but because my hope was back where it should be. And in all of this, I did nothing! I didn’t strive or have to work to shift things around. I just allowed Holy Spirit to work in me, to show me where I’d gone wrong, to comfort me and to show me my true Hope.
As I went for an early morning run yesterday, I was reminded that when it’s darkest is when I need to run towards the sun (Son) rise and feel my hope rise every step I take closer to those rays! It always rises. He is always faithful. Hold on.
“Why am I discouraged? Why is my heart sad? I will put my hope in God! I will praise him again – my Saviour and my God.”
Psalm 42:5
Learning to Listen 