Breath of Hope ... Breath of Heaven ... by Jocelyn Faire

Gloom we have always with us, a rank and sturdy weed, but joy requires tending.
Barbara Holland

While I wait for God as long as He remains in hiding, while I wait and hope for him, I stand my ground and hope.
Isaiah 8:17 The Message

As I write this, I am brought back to my personal version of The Worst Christmas Pageant Ever. And I can still taste and feel the despair that was ready to engulf my soul. Despair is prolific, it requires nothing from us in order to grow, but hope takes an enormous effort. The year was 2005 and I felt as though I was living my life outside of my body, trying to direct a script that kept unravelling. Nine months earlier had been the day a car accident claimed the lives of my son, my daughter and my future daughter-in-law. Although this was now history to many people in our community, (because life moves on) our household was still reeling in grief. And the festive season was about to descend. My daughter and her husband had been in Africa for the past two years, this should have been our reunion Christmas.

I dreaded Christmas for eight months that year.

The only thing I could think of was a plan to escape ... do something different ... head to a warmer climate with our remaining daughter and her husband. Arrangements were made.

Thankfully some of the events are a blur.

But the question that changed everything, came from my husband (still struggling with PTSD), two days before the planned departure ...

“How bad would it be if I didn't go along?”

How Bad? Beyond bad ... unbearable, unthinkable, unresolvable.

Later that evening, alone in the family room-now a room without a family-his words replayed in my mind. I broke down weeping on the floor, the carpet absorbing the flood of  tears. Words failed to form into prayer as my heart felt ripped apart. The silence from heaven overwhelmed me.

I lay there till the sobs finally subsided.

“Will you trust me?” was the tiny question that I perceived.

Lord you have taken my two children, will you take my husband as well?

More silence as the questions hung in the air.

And all I have to go on is that you will be with me?

No reassurance, no guarantees, but a tiny spark of hope, a sense of His presence.

And so, following an emergency family counselling session ... three out of four of us still climbed aboard the flight to depart for Christmas.

I had never felt so alone. My husband had been part of the last thirty-two Christmases. I kept looking along the street, somehow thinking/hoping his truck might appear.

December 24^th our trio walked up and down the palm lined street, looking for a Christmas Eve service to attend. A board advertising a candlelight service at 8pm caught our eyes. We planned for it. Later that evening flickering candles lined the walkway to the stone building. Arriving five minutes before 8, we were surprised by the empty church, there were no others in attendance. What had we missed? Too confused and emotionally fragile, we took a balcony seat to catch our collective breath. From out of the darkness a woman stepped onto stage and sang for an audience of three—

Breath of Heaven ...

♪♪ I am waiting in a silent prayer
I am frightened by the load I bear
In a world as cold as stone
Must I walk this path alone?
Be with me now ...

Breath of heaven
Hold me together
Be forever near me
Breath of heaven ...
Lighten my darkness
Pour over me your holiness
For you are holy
Breath of heaven ♪♪ ...

The only thing that broke the silence were the tears that dropped to the wooden floor. After the song we walked along the water's edge until it was time for the official 9pm service, even though all three of us had read 8pm. My daughter told me this was the song she had brought along to share with me on Christmas day. She knew the power of the words. She knew I needed being held together. The Spirit also knew and I believe provided a private divine encounter ♪♪ to remind us that the gift of Christmas truly was and remains as Immanuel—God with us. He was with us that dark Christmas, and has been present every Christmas since.

When we can begin to grasp that God-With-Us is all we need, we have hope to live through every dark day.

Because when all is said and done, the last word is Immanuel—God-With-Us. Isaiah 8:10 The Message

This is a link to Amy Grant's version of Breath of Heaven (originally written by Chris Eaton/revised by Amy Grant)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rW2OBT-5qfc

Jocelyn wishes you a Blessed Christmas from North Africa, where Christmas will be celebrated with her daughter and family. She is the author of Who is Talking Out of My Head, Grief as an Out of Body Experience.