It was still hard to believe that it really had happened. David stared out the window of what suddenly again seemed like a great big empty and dreary house. It was almost a year ago that the accident had paralysed Amy's life, and ripped all meaning out of David's existence. 27 years old and he would just as soon have stopped living right then. Now all that was left of his once vivacious wife was in a full-care facility some 200KM away. Down to 87 pounds. Fed through a plastic tube.

A yes, many a night had been spent looking out this living room window, many a night with many a tear. David often thought back to the good times he and Amy had shared together; places they had gone, people they had chummed around with, vacations they had taken, projects they had tackled....

Oh, it all came back.

And how he longed for it, ached for it.

What he wouldn't give to be able to experience just 5 more minutes of this! It was worst during the first few months after the accident. The memories went with him everywhere. Constantly he would talk to someone of visit someplace that would jog his memory about some special time with Amy.

David would pray and cry, he would give ANYTHING for some miracle that would snap her out of this vegetable-like existence and bring her back to him.

David LONGED for his wife Amy.
 
 

If you can imagine something of the loss and longing that David felt, then perhaps you can also understand something of what was going on in the soul of the writer of Isaiah 63.

He was a citizen of the nation of Israel. They were God's special people and had witnessed Him do powerful miracles on their behalf.

That was in the past, though. Now they were slaves under the oppressive rule of Babylon. Families were torn apart. Humiliating slave labor was the order of the day. Isaiah saw the heart of his people ripped out, and their faith life going down the drain.

It hurt. What once was so grand; a relationship between God and His people - pictured in various parts of the bible as a closeness like that of husband and wife - was now completely torn apart.

Isaiah thought back to the times when Israel experienced God's presence in vivid ways. Like when they were rescued from the clutches of Egypt with 10 mighty plagues; when they saw an enemy army drowned in the Red Sea; when they experienced the great, awesome power of God as He descended onto Mt.Sinai in thick cloud and smoke, thunder and lightning.

Isaiah remembered the stories he had been told about the nation travelling through the desert to Palestine = even their shoes, clothing and tenting supplies miraculously tasted twice as long as normal. God had provided for all of their needs in up-front, visible, and most amazing ways.

Oh, what it must have been like!

But now it was all silence. It was as though God were in a coma. Heaven was mute. Power was none existent. Memories were, it seemed, all that was left.

Isaiah longed for more.
 
 

Longing - an aching longing that reaches right down into your bones. When someone or something very important to us is suddenly no longer present, or when we are pressured into a corner -

then longing for something that once was, or a longing for something that is far better, takes over.

I'm tired.

I just want Jesus to come and get me - to take me home.

This colleague longed for heaven.

It happens to a friend of mine. He has 2 sons afflicted with Muscular Dystrophy. Oh how he aches for their health. Oh, how he longs for medical science to come up with a cure. Oh, how he longs for Jesus to reach out his hand and touch these children with a miraculous cure.

Longing. Can you feel it?

Perhaps as you watch the ongoing saga of suffering refugees in Africa to the deafening indifference of the international community.

Perhaps as you hear reports of food banks being strained to the outer edges of their limited resources.

Perhaps as you are caught in a labour environment that is almost intolerably tense and demanding.

Perhaps as you have to go back to school -- dreading it; knowing that the moment you set food inside, somebody is going to make a degrading or insulting remark aimed directly at you.

Longing -

Longing perhaps to go to sleep and wake up to discover that everything is different -- safe, better.

Longing for God to come down in fire and smoke, thunder and lightning, with angels and miracles by the millions, to set things right.

Like David, and Isaiah.

Come on, God!

Act - decisively!

Bring change -- even a pinprick of light and hope to a world facing a very dark future!

We do so having just come through the season of Christmas - when we celebrated the Greatest Divine Act that human history has known. We sang and reminded each other of a divine conception in the womb of a virgin; angels with a message of great joy; wise men and shepherds; Mary and Joseph; Simeon and Anna.

And as we did, perhaps do all that we may very well find ourselves experiencing a twinge of nostalgia. We may find the emotion of longing growing inside:

Oh, if only God would come back and do something equally great for us now!

Holy longing.

A deep reminder that all in life is not as it should be.

That in a real way only a divine miracle could set things right.

Left alone we are helpless.

Holy longing.

Christmas reminded us that God can, did and does intervene in world affairs.

He did it in the greatest of ways by becoming a part of the earthly scene, born as a baby in the poorest of neighborhoods.

He still does it through the moving, creative, restoring presence of the Holy Spirit.

And He will do it in one more great, climactic way when Jesus Christ will return to earth as Almighty Judge in that final moment of history when all longings will be satisfied;

all hurts healed

all pains quieted

all sorrows removed

New Year’s Eve, 1999 - marking yet another year of waiting and longing for that final moment, and praying for another year of God's intervening moments along the way. Another year. More time.

Time.

They say time heals. In some ways, I suppose, there is a bit of truth to that. At least it dulls the pain a bit. That's what it did for David.

Over the months the grief didn't sting quite as bad. He was able to get back to work. The tragedy didn't occupy his every waking moment. As the years went by the overwhelming and aching longing was replaced by more of a wistful remembrance. Eventually there were just the memories. The tears had all been cried out.

No more hope for a miraculous change.

Life simply went on.

Day after day after day after day after day after day......

Time dulls the pain.

Time quiets the longing.

It's true, you know.

And while that may be good for someone in a horribly painful and tragic circumstance like David, it can be a real problem and a major concern for others.

For you and me, perhaps.

For as the days go by and turn into years - 10,20, 40, 80 - our longing in faith for the return of Jesus Christ can sometimes become dulled.

We become like the workmen of Mark 13. At first it seems strange to work without the boss present. But eventually you get used to it. Finally it seems quite normal.

And with time the desire to do an extra good job in his absence, and the urgency to put in overtime subsides. You become drowsy, and maybe even fall asleep on the job.

There is, as we enter a new year, so much to do, isn't there?

Bills to pay, classes to attend and exams to study for, jobs to go to, volunteer commitments to keep. And all these things can lure us into a sort of trance after a while. They hypnotize us. We get so caught up in them, that eventually they are all we see.

The passage of time makes sure of that.

And the danger is that we eventually forget totally about the fact that there IS a boss, a Master, a Lord, who one day WILL return,

and who will then demand an accounting from us.

When He comes, and demands that accounting, He will get His due.

Every eye will see him.

Every knee will have to bow in obedience and honor -

willingly or otherwise.

He is not some small-time shareholder in the stake of the human scene.

He is one of whom Isaiah wrote, coming down and making the very mountains shake and quiver.

He is the one before whom the greatest of our righteous acts appear like filthy rags; before whom we shrivel up like a leaf.

powerful,

eternal,

awesome God.

When we long, we long for Him.

When we speak of the second coming, we speak of Him.

And every once in a while we are hit with the realization that this is so. Those are the moments when we sit up with a start and realize that while we long for His coming, we also wonder - "Am I ready?"

We remain somewhat apprehensive. Maybe even worried.

What will the Divine Judge say when I stand before Him?

Is my eternal destiny secure? Safe?

Or will the frustrations of today pale in the face of impending eternal horror?

And, folks, in those moments, our longing which has been replaced with dullness, which has been interrupted with apprehension, could turn into full-blown fear and panic --- unless we reach out in faith, in accepting trusting belief to the great gospel miracle of grace --

-- That YES, my destiny is secure.

Reaching out to Jesus. Grasping Him. Trusting Him alone.

So let our longing be sharpened again.

Let our passion for His return be rekindled; blazing brightly.

Let us fight the dullness that time might bring.

And let us call to those around us,

those with aches, pains, tragedies, and frustrations

to join in the watching, and the waiting, and the longing.

In the coming year -

For Jesus.