That’s how things were on the way back home from college. With Columbia and the fall semester in my rearview mirror, I was finally free!

Or so I thought.

My pickup truck, already loaded down with clothes and packed for the break, was not getting along with me at all. The dashboard was lit up like a Christmas tree, screaming at me that I had a low tire, that my passenger’s side seatbelt wasn’t buckled, and that I needed gas. There were probably other problems too. The radio transmitter that serves as my aux cord was acting up, and I could barely make out whatever music I was listening to through the perpetual cough of radio static.

At that point, the only thought really registering in my frazzled brain was dang. This is a pretty good metaphor for my fall semester of college. As I rocked and rumbled down the barely-asphalt interstate, it finally sunk in; I was running on fumes and about to give out.

Now, my life is not terrible by any means. I don’t mean to discount anyone’s struggles. I am privileged and blessed to have a wonderful family, a university education, and friends that love me really well, among numerous other things. But of the 19 years I’ve been on this planet, these last few months have probably been the hardest. #adulting is #theworst. I’m halfway through my sophomore year of college, and this semester had more than its share of tough classes, hard decisions, doubts about the future, friendships going south, heartbreak, embarrassing losses, and just general sadness. This semester had gone almost the opposite of how I’d expected it to, and those squashed hopes bled some disappointment and sadness. The kind of sadness that presses and squeezes on your heart like a soaked blanket being wrung out. So as you might imagine, I was feeling kind of like a leaning, overloaded white ’08 Tacoma slurping up the last of its fuel as I bounced down life’s highway. And I didn’t really feel like riding it all night long.

Now if that was the end of my story, this would be a very disappointing (and whiny) post.

But, it’s not. Thankfully, my little picture of life as I experienced it this semester is only just that; a little picture. It’s a little sad on my part, but even with my little issues, I was starting to doubt God’s provision for me. I’d wonder to myself: does God really care about me? Does he really give a rip if I’m heartbroken, or tired, or sad? 

Any Christian would hate to actually admit it, but in those times where we suffer, as big or as small, it’s really easy to forget God and raise a fist at him. Maybe I even go so far as to practically refuse to believe in his promises. After all, isn’t it really difficult to put all of our trust in a confusing, invisible, being that often never even speaks audibly to us? If you’ve felt that, you’re not alone. Throughout history, people have had doubts. Take God’s hand-picked people, the Israelites, for example. These are the same folks who had seen God rain fire from the sky, demolish the most powerful man in the world, blast a sea in half so that they could walk through on dry ground (see Exodus), and that only scratches the surface of the truly awesome things they saw the Creator of the Universe do with their own eyes. These same people then decided one day that God wasn’t going to keep taking care of them. They thought they could do a better job. They rebelled against the same God who had freed them from bondage. And yet, God kept going back and offering redemption, time and time again.

Hope.

Even from this same time of rebellion, though, God kept dropping hints that something better was coming. 8 chapters after their rebellion recorded in Numbers 14, God spoke through a pagan prophet named Balaam. This prophet, called by the enemies of God’s people to curse Israel, instead blesses the nation and says this:

I see him, but not now;

I behold him, but not near:

a star shall come out of Jacob,

and a scepter shall rise out of Israel

Some fifteen-hundred years later, that star would come to shine over Bethlehem, heralding the birth of a baby, the apex of God’s redemptive history of humanity. That scepter would come to rest in the hands of the Son of God, Jesus Christ. This man, prophesied and hoped for by those who loved the Lord for over a millennium would come and change history. This man wasn’t just the reason we divide history into two eras; he isn’t just the foundation of the largest religion in the world;

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities–all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.

Colossians 1:15-20

In this man, God offers us hope. He offers us a much better promise than relief from all of our troubles. He offers us the hope of restoration — reconciliation — to our purpose. To live lives in intimacy with the forever and infinitely good, loving, just, righteous, perfect, wonderful, awesome, healing God who created us.

In Jesus, God doesn’t offer to patch up my leaky tire and to fill up my tank of gas. He could, if he sees fit to bring glory to his name in that way, but his promise is something much, much bigger. He promises us satisfaction and union with the greatest and most amazing person of all time; himself.

His only ask is that we would truly hope in him to the point that we would surrender our lives to this better promise; to trust each and every part of ourselves to the man in whom the fullness of God was pleased to dwell.

All I’m saying is this: have you really opened yourself up for something truly supernatural to take place? What are you waiting for, hoping for, and expecting this Christmas season? God gave us more than an abstract idea of some cosmic entity to hope in — he gave us a real, walking, talking man. The Word of God became flesh and lived with us. The glory of God in a man was introduced to us. And tonight we celebrate that!

Have a Merry Christmas. I hope that God blesses you with good health, friendship, and love in the new year.

— Cade