In France during the spring of 1945, a little girl named Suzanna was being carried by her mother through their village which had been devastated by the movement of armies in the final assault on Germany. Their homes and shops were gone, completely destroyed – the village was in ruins. They paused for a moment in front of what was once their church. As they stood there, they noticed something – a rose reaching up through the rubble . . . and it was in full bloom! “Look, Suzanna,” her mother said, “remember that a rose can grow anywhere!”
I’ve long since forgotten the origin of that little story . . . but its truth lingers still. There are many among us who are dreading the New Year and the prospect of more months of social distancing, mask wearing and self-isolation. Perhaps you know such a person . . . perhaps you are such a person. Covid’s dark clouds hover above their fallen countenances; tears threaten to follow the slightest word of disapproval; conversations are limited to single syllable words uttered hesitantly between long pauses. Fearing further disillusionment and emotional pain, they are a bit like drowning people desperate for life-saving assistance before disappearing for the third time beneath reality’s cold waters. Left to my own resources, I would have but a story or two about hope, a handkerchief and a hug to offer . . . but, praise God, I’m not left to my own meager resources – none of us are – we have a Savior! “There is hope for the helpless, rest for the weary, love for the broken heart. There is grace and forgiveness, mercy and healing . . . He’ll meet you wherever you are. Cry out to Jesus!”
