“Awesome things you will show us in your righteousness,
O God our salvation,
O hope of all the ends of the earth
and of the seas that are far away.”
— Psalm 65:5
It is far too easy to become overwhelmed by all that is not right in the world. Injustices, especially, sit heavily on the heart. Friends anxiously waiting for visa approvals because their home country is no longer safe. Others grieving the ache of empty arms, longing for children. The unseen suffering of people who push through each day with quiet desperation. The homeless man standing at the freeway exit, holding a sign no one seems to want to read.
Without even realizing it, I begin to carry these things—as though the weight of the world rests on my shoulders—and my spirit becomes burdened and sorrowful. But this morning’s passage lifts my gaze again:
God is our salvation. God is our hope.
The Father sent His Son into a world aching in ways not unlike our own.
How does that change the way I view the world around me?
How does it shape my conversations with my neighbor or the woman at the grocery checkout?
How do I love the mother holding a sign that pleads for help?
To look away would be easy—but it would also harden the heart. Instead, I ask the Lord to keep my heart soft, responsive, open to His leading.
One warm Christmas Eve when we were living in Southeast Asia we hosted a gathering for our neighbors in our front yard. Before our friends arrived, we asked the Father for natural openings to share our story of hope—simple, honest opportunities that wouldn’t feel forced or awkward. At one point, my husband shared his favorite Christmas carol: Joy to the World.
He said the line that moves him most is “No more let thorns infest the ground.” While we still feel the effects of the fall—while suffering, fear, and sadness linger—we can cling to the hope that Christ will come again and make all things new. And until that day, he reminded them, Christ’s coming at Christmas was the beginning of restoration: God coming close, bridging the gap, drawing us and making all things right through Jesus.
Our neighbors nodded. They may not yet know the Savior yet, but they, too, recognize that the world can feel frightening, heavy, and hopeless at times.
“You shall not be afraid of any terror by night, nor of the arrow that flies by day.” Psalm 91:5
What hope this brings me—as a daughter of the King. I can look at the world through a different lens. Christ is the hope of the world, and without Him, there is no hope at all, there is no peace, there is no joy, there is no love.
He came to restore our relationship with the Father—
to draw us back into His embrace—
to be our salvation in a weary and waiting world.
He alone is our hope, peace, joy, and love.
