The last two years, 2020 and 2021, were swept away as the world was engulfed in a pandemic. While the last century saw the outbreak of two world wars, the pandemic in this century was a war of another kind. In the last century the heroes were those who went out to fight, in ours the directive for the larger majority was to stay at home as part of the fight. We have all gone through much as individuals, as families, as communities, and as nations. The virus has since mutated and continues to mutate and even as we begin a new year, we are left hanging under a cloud of uncertainty if things are really getting better.
The years that have been, for all its ups and downs, will not be had again, but what about the year at hand, the year that will be? What if the year that will be becomes a repeat of the years that have been? Just a few days ago, a fresh set of directives were issued again in the light of fresh cases of transmissions. I daresay the year that will be, will also be quickly lost to the spirit of helplessness that threatened humanity over the last two years unless we get our bearings right. This is not to complain about what has been, we have too less time to cry and rue over what has gone by. Rather this is to look forward to what will be and hope, hope for a fuller life even in time of what seems to be an unending cycle of crisis. But how will we celebrate life and hope in such a time as this even as we watch events in the larger world and our little homes unfold? Some pleasant, some marked with grief; some like promising days, others like dark nights. Yes, we have gone through much in our own little ways. We have lived through the turns of joy and pain, of hope and of fear. Perhaps the last two years for all their brevity have brought upon us a plethora of emotions, led us through a world of experiences. As I think of the year that will be, I feel like somebody under the shadow of dark clouds looking at the clear skyline in the distance. But it is in being able to look up and see such a sight despite the distance that the celebration of life and hope begins. The good old Book also talks about a community of people who were looking into the distant future and lived faithfully in the situations they found themselves in.
So how am I going to celebrate life and hope in the days of the year that will be? The psalmist in the midst of his travel looked up to the mountains along the trail and asked where his help will come from. Mountains, symbol of sheer size and strength. Go try digging away a mountain. But then he goes further to look beyond the mountain and declares his help will come from the Maker of heaven and earth. That is looking into the distance to find strength. Why? Why not the mountains? Why not be inspired by the high and mighty mountains? Maybe because sometimes mountains too fall. And what about the Maker? Well, the Maker is altogether a different story.
What is the lesson from the psalmist? Simple. Two words. Look up! You want to celebrate life and hope in a time such as this? Look up! Allow me to say this, we are not by nature people who normally look up. We tend to look around and then look down, especially when things around us look bleak. It is more difficult for us to look up in expectation; it is easier for us to look down with our shoulders bearing the weight of our cares. Whereas, the psalmist looked up, and he was not simply looking like how we might just throw a glancing look, casually looking with nothing in particular. The psalmist was looking with an expectation, better yet he was looking with assurance. And part of this big assurance was this, even as he looked up at the Maker, he knew the Maker was looking towards him. The Maker was not shying away or hiding himself. They were looking face to face, if I may so put it.
What is the lesson from the psalmist? Simple. Two words. Look up! You want to celebrate life and hope in a time such as this? Look up! Allow me to say this, we are not by nature people who normally look up. We tend to look around and then look down, especially when things around us look bleak. It is more difficult for us to look up in expectation; it is easier for us to look down with our shoulders bearing the weight of our cares. Whereas, the psalmist looked up, and he was not simply looking like how we might just throw a glancing look, casually looking with nothing in particular. The psalmist was looking with an expectation, better yet he was looking with assurance. And part of this big assurance was this, even as he looked up at the Maker, he knew the Maker was looking towards him. The Maker was not shying away or hiding himself. They were looking face to face, if I may so put it.
As we move into the year that will be, I hope we look up to draw strength. In a time such as this, what we look at will show where our strength lies. The question is, are we looking up at the mountains or are we looking up at the Maker? It is good to have mountains to lean on, but then mountains are not eternal. Even when the mountains fall, the Maker stands unshaken. That also sounds very much like a man, caught in the midst of a national tragedy, who in a vision he had, looked up and saw who the True King is.
There's nothing more than to look up at the Maker of everything.
ReplyDeleteThings around us are just meaningless, except the MAKER.
Wonderful, Sir. I'm encouraged in a time such as this.💕
Waiting for your another blog😘🥳
Glad to hear that. Thank you for those words and blessings.
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