Sometimes accepting a blessing
means giving up life as we know it.
And so Zecharias comes to the
temple, carrying with him the echoes of little voices he once dreamed of
teaching to pray, the shadows of small hands and feet that would have followed
him in his work. He wears the sorrow now as familiar as his priestly robes,
disappointment woven through the fabric of his days.
And the angel appears, and in spite
of his astonishment he simply cannot will his heart to believe. Hope long ago
became too painful.
Living with disappointment is
easier than opening his heart again.
But oh, Zecharias, this story is so
much bigger than you, and if only you knew how your pain will be transformed
into brightest, glorious joy.
And God will take your voice away
and give you the gift of simply watching Him work. All your words of reason and
doubt will be silenced. Elisabeth’s belly will swell while your own heart fills
with the laughter that bursts right out of her, the wife of your youth whose
arms have so long been empty. You will watch her eyes shine and see the heads
wagging in wonder and you will understand something new.
And God, He will laugh too, holiest
joy when all that sorrow blossoms and blooms and lays you open to purest
wonder.
He is preparing the way right now,
right in your heart, and when your son is placed into your arms, the first
words from your new-forged faith will speak his name, the wild truth of it: John. “Jehovah is a gracious giver.”
And you won’t be able to stop them,
words flowing from the wonder of this love, words from God Himself who yearns
toward us to tell of His love that reached down into the womb of an old woman,
this miracle that is only the beginning of miracles, the son whose birth is
being proclaimed for miles around even as His own Son swells the womb of
another.
And all that sorrow, all those days
of pain lie like paving-stones pointing the way to this.
Maybe the pain scoops out the hard
places, creates the space for Him to fill. Maybe the tears soften us to receive
Him, like rain in the desert.
When we stop asking and only watch
and believe, then He comes.
