Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

Fallen pine needles. Faded fairy lights. Shreds of gift wrap still under the couch. In the wake of Christmas, and on the last Saturday of 2023, all that once sparked warm, merry coziness is now cold, lackluster clutter. Empty storage bins, like new journals, wait to be filled as the vast unknown of the New Year begins to permeate the cold air.

‍

If I’m not careful, the dregs of the old year and the unknown of the new can drag me down and leave me disillusioned.

‍

“But, we are gaining daylight,” I remind myself.

‍

No matter the weather, the sun still rises a little higher each morning. It lingers longer each evening. Its arc will faithfully lengthen  by minutes each day until the glorious return of the summer solstice, an experience you cannot treasure without the winter solstice.

‍

A little over a week ago, after days of cloud cover and dense fog, the skies over Eagle River cleared just long enough to reveal evidence of the sun. Nothing direct. Not even a sliver. But for one moment, I saw a glow in the canyon of Cottongrass and Rendezvous Peak as the sun hung suspended somewhere back on Hiland Road.

‍

The glow faded as quickly as it had appeared. Hours later, the sun slipped across faraway seas, leaving in its wake the darkest night of the year, cold beneath starry skies.

The faith life is like that sometimes.

‍

In some seasons of life, our joy glows; it is radiantly evident, direct and bright in all its fullness. In other seasons our joy fades little by little until it slips across faraway seas, leaving darkness in its wake.

‍

Though painful, these seasons of darkness have eternal value.

‍

When “grief in all kinds of trials” (1 Peter 1:6) drags us down and dims our joy, Jesus draws us inward, into the quiet places of our souls where he is testing the genuineness of our faith, which is of “greater worth than gold,” (1 Peter 1:7).  

‍

And our faith, no matter how small, fills us “with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls” (1 Peter 1:9).

‍

Our salvation is secure, even in dark and uncertain times. This is true when the celebration fades, when the new is yet unknown, and when we’re feeling lackluster and disillusioned.

‍

This is good news. This is enough to strengthen our faith and spark joy in the darkness.

Jesus, you are the Light of the World. You bring us salvation! This is true no matter our circumstances, no matter our feelings. Praise God! If we have weak faith, speak your truth into our spirits and renew us. And, as we meditate on your truth, may you, “restore unto us the joy of your salvation” (Psalm 51:12). In Jesus’ holy and worthy name, amen.