Saturday, December 10, 2022

Longing for a Cure


“If you were suffering with an illness with seemingly no cure, you would be desperate to receive not only the correct diagnosis, but also news of any effective remedy for your condition … and if the remedy was paid for and cost nothing but a willingness to come, you would be crazy not to receive it. Right? God’s people and all of creation ached with longing for sin’s remedy. They tried everything to no avail; there was no cure whatsoever for man’s brokenness. God waited for the time He appointed in history—the exact moment chose to fulfill His promise—and declared, “Hope has come.” 

And that hope was Jesus, born to do what we could not. Christmas and the anticipation of Jesus Christ, our Messiah, is precious only to the degree that we are desperate to find freedom from what ails us. Jesus was not to stay in a manger, He was born to go to the cross. And this Jesus—He is the answer we have been longing for.”  Emmanuel

For obvious reasons this morning’s writing resonated. Ruth Chou Simon’s devotional Emmanuel is gorgeous. It is thought provoking. It is exactly what I need walking through this holiday season—“an invitation to prepare Him room at Christmas and always.” 


That “ached with longing” part of which she writes, is something I know so well these days. These are not just words to me. This is a physical aching. Palpable. Deeply penetrating. Constantly present. And though my Savior has continued to give me great moments of peace and assurance in this year of diagnosis, the desperate longing for cure and health and hope is always there. It is the breath in my lungs, the beat of my heart, the underlying cadence of my days. 


It is the question asked over and over and over again— What can I do? What can I eat? Drink? Take? Avoid? Read? Believe? Embrace? Sign up for? Subscribe to? Even sacrifice?


Because, as in most things, we make it about us. What we can do. What we bring to the table. What role we have in saving ourselves. And whereas there might be some things we can do to better ourselves and better our situations … we cannot, ultimately, save ourselves. 

We are not saviors. 

We are not even survivors, really. 

We are sinners—the worst of us and the very best of us. Hopeless sinners living in a broken world aching and longing and desperate for a cure. 

For a fix. 

For something.

For a shred of some kind of hope.


We look everywhere. We look at everything. And, without doubt, there are many lovely little things which comfort, console and, even, captivate. But this world can provide no real cure for what truly ails us. 


We collect broken bits which only cause more burden. 

We sweep together pretty pieces which fail to bring true peace.

We gather moments of good and find they aren’t so great. 


This—our human condition playing out on repeat and utterly hopeless without a cure. I guess I can encourage you to go ahead and keep trying. Keep trying to make it better without Jesus. Keep trying to do it on your own. Keep trying to find the answer in self-help books and psychotherapy and, dare I say, stuff. 


It might help, but it won’t work. 

It is as stage four as my diagnosis. 

It is as seriously devastating as my disease. 

These little self-attempts--like putting bandaids on cancer in bones.


There are many, many helps, but only One Hope. 

There are many comforts, but only One Cure.

Many remedies, but only One Who Redeems.


We celebrate Christmas because …

The Cure is the Christ Child. 

Come for us. 

Come in a manger.

Come for the cross. 

Come for our longing. 

Come for our lacking. 

Come for our weeping.

Come for our worries.

Come for our despairing.

Come for our diseases.

Come for our sinning. 

Come for our salvation.

Come, because He loves us.


Let this be the Christmas you come. Come with dashed dreams. Come with broken hearts. Come with empty hands. Come as you are. 

Come and peer into the wee manger. 

Come and bow down before the rough cross. 

Come and meet the Very One come for you.


“For unto us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” Isaiah 9:6


“Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28


“Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; …

Incline your ear, and come to me; hear, that your soul may live…” John 3:36


“And whoever comes to me I will never cast out.” John 1:12


O come, let us adore Him,

O come, let us adore Him,

O come, let us adore Him, 

Christ the Lord. 


For He alone is worthy,

For He alone is worthy,

For He alone is worthy, 

Christ the Lord.

            ~ John Francis Wade 1743



2 comments:

Anonymous said...

You cannot image how this ministered to me this morning, this season dear one🎄♥️

Anonymous said...

Your gift of writing is a gift to me- thank you for sharing your heart❤️