Almost There

Two of the most hopeful words in the English language:

“Almost there.”

Perhaps it was my affinity for imagining the human details of the Christmas story.

Perhaps it was my partiality for rich lyrics.

Or perhaps it was the nostalgic voices from the soundtrack of my teenage years.

But when I heard this new Christmas song, I was riveted.

Take a listen.

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ClYL3pKCwI

 

 

Mary, full of innocence, Carrying the Holy prince,

You're almost there, you're almost there

Mother of the Living Word, Trusting in the voice you heard

You're almost there, you're almost there

You're almost where the angels see, Redemption's plan unfolding

All hope is in the Son you'll bear,

You're almost there,

A lonely road, a willing heart,

Pray for strength to do your part,

You're almost there, you're almost there,

Trust the Father to provide, Bread of heaven prophesied,

You're almost there, you're almost there,

You're almost where the waiting ends, Delivering the life within,

The answered prayer, Emmanuel,

You're almost there,

You're almost where the journey ends, Where death will die and life begins,

The answered prayer, Emmanuel,

You're almost, almost there.

 

I wonder how many times similar words were whispered…

…to Mary as they neared Bethlehem.

…in the hearts of God’s people who remembered He promised a Delivering King.

…to Simeon as he waited for the Consolation of Israel.

…to Anna as her fragile frame hobbled through the crowd toward a sparse celebration.
 

“You’re almost where the waiting ends, where death will die and life begins.”
 

Such words put a lump in my throat and catch in my breath.

·        Suffering through prolonged seasons of isolation.

·        Restoring difficult relationships.

·        Toiling over a labor of love.

·        Recovering from illness.

·        Waiting to hear.

·        Delivering a baby.
 

You’re almost there!

 

The difficulty is in the ambiguity. “How much longer?" we demand.

But the blurry timeline is also the blessing. If we knew exactly how much longer, we may throw our hands in the air and buckle under the weight of despair.

Our hope is not in a clear timeline. Instead, our hope is walking with God through difficulty knowing He has the timeline in sharp focus. He knows exactly how much longer, and for reasons beyond our understanding, He’s planned it on purpose.

He’s whispering, “Take my hand. You’re almost there.”

 

How do these words comfort you?