Weary. If I had to pick one word to describe how this year has made me feel, this would probably be it. I’ve struggled to write this letter, because honestly, Christmas letters are supposed to be about cheer and joy and happiness. Perhaps we’ll work our way there by the end, but for now let’s sit in the weariness for a minute.
Weary. I guess I could say 2020 and you all could relate. Covid-19 has changed the game in so many ways. The reality for us in Haiti is that we also lived much of 2019 the way everyone has lived 2020 - limited outings, less travel, extreme uncertainty, etc. It’s wearying.
Weary. None of my kids’ adoption statuses have really changed this year. No one has gone home, no referrals, no possible families stepping forward for the kids with special needs, no becoming “unstuck.” The mountains that need moved, still haven’t moved. It’s wearying.
Weary. Regular friends haven’t come to visit. Regular trips to Canada haven’t occurred. People that bring refreshment, relief and, let’s be honest, cheese, haven’t much been a part of this year. It’s wearying.
Weary. We’ve been working with reduced staffing to help save money. I also have nannies who are sick or missing work for other reasons. This means fewer adults to help wrangle toddlers, regulate tantrums and feed, change and love my kids who need complete care. Early mornings, rare breaks, late nights. It’s wearying.
Weary. So many details of little lives that are theirs to tell, but for now, ours to bear. Heartbreaking realities with no easy solutions and just a lot of heaviness. It’s wearying.
Weary. Certainly this describes so many prophets of the Old Testament, speaking to people over and over, with no one listening. The burden had to be wearying.
Weary. I suppose this is how the world felt, waiting for Jesus. They knew he was coming, but when and how? The wait had to be wearying.
Weary. This had to describe Mary after that long trip to Bethlehem, pregnant with the Savior, obedient, but wondering when the details would start to make sense. The uncertainty had to be wearying.
“A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices.”
It was into this weary world that Jesus was born. The prophets had known, the people had waited and his mother had prayed. And, finally, the weary world rejoiced!
I am guessing that a lot of you feel a weariness similar to mine. In so many ways, it feels like we are still waiting for Jesus to break through this weariness. And he has promised that he will. First, he came to us as a babe in a manger, and then he said to us, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
May this Christmas be one where we lean into him in our weariness. May we rejoice at the hope he brings. May we know that even when we can’t find the words, he is good. And may we remember that even in the weariness, there is cheer, there is joy and there is happiness. See below for photographic evidence from the Peace House crew that I am blessed to call mine, and Merry Christmas, friends!
Love,
Carla
(and W, J, D, W, S and E)
Children of the Promise has given explicit permission for the posting of photos on this site. Photos taken of children in the care of Children of the Promise are not be posted publicly without explicit permission given by Children of the Promise.
