The Redemption of All Things

I believe in the redemption of all things.

I believe it has happened.

I believe it is happening.

I also believe that it hasn't fully happened. But, it will.

During the Christian season of Advent, Psalm 80 is read and sung aloud and the following words repeated, "Oh that you would tear open the heavens and come down." For those of us who struggle to follow Christ, we say them thinking of the day of days when the One would return, proclaiming that all will be made new, death and hell destroyed, and sorrow no more.

That day is promised, but there is no timeline for it. And there's grown two basic schools of thoughts when it will happen. The first says that things will get worse and worse until, just before complete disaster, Jesus will show up and save us. The other says the One is waiting on you help bring that day.

I'm in that latter camp. I don't think we can bring that full redemption of things, only the One can. But we can get it as close as we can. And we do that every day though acts of love, of beauty, of joy. They're small things. But, I believe, there's a lot of us here on this world. If all of us do small things, amazing things happen.

What I hope to do this year is walk and look intentionally at the world around me. I want to do so by being aware of the small things I'm doing and those around me are doing. My hope is to see not only where redemption is happening but where I'm working against it.

My goal is to show that this belief, this hope in redemption is not in vain. Week upon week, I plan to show that even though we might have to look hard and long, there is always some measure of redemption occurring in our world. And, in so doing, add a little more hope into a world that needs it.

To begin, there's no better start than a sunrise. Most mornings of the year either by alarm clock or cat, I'm awake to see them. This morning, my wife, Leanne, called me from the other room to come and sit down next to the Christmas tree with her. Seated, she simply said, "Look."

The sun had not yet cleared the houses across the way, but it's light was already in the world. Clouds striped the sky, catching its light so there was blue, pink, blue, and pink beyond the window. In my eyes, there was that light and the lights from our tree, still burning on toward Twelfth Night.

Just before, I had been thinking about the hopes and fears (particularly the fears) of this upcoming year. With those thought in my head, I'd sat down. So full of them, I didn't first realize what had captured Leanne's attention. Until I asked, "The sunrise?"

"Yes. It's beautiful."

First lesson of the year, you have to be looking to see the beauty before you.