May those who sow in tears
reap with shouts of joy.
Psalm 126:5
Maurice walked about a mile every Sunday from his group home to church. He seldom missed worship. In the sub-zero temperatures frequently occurring in Vermont winters, he entered the sanctuary in his flannel shirt, suspenders, work boots, and khakis. Down the left aisle he would go, greeting each person as he went. "Mornin". "Beautiful day, ain't it".
Then he would sit in a pew. Alone in the front.
One snowy Sunday right before Christmas, he didn't make it to church. Considering the weather, no one was really surprised. He wasn't in church the next Sunday either. The men's fellowship called the home to find out if he was alright. No, he wasn't. On his way to church he had slipped on black ice under the snow, fallen and broken his ankle. He was confined to bed and very depressed.
Men from the fellowship visited him several times. Two days before Christmas, they all came for a visit. They sang Christmas carols and brought a few presents, including a new flannel shirt.
To Maurice, the Lord had done a great thing for him because the men's fellowship knew in their hearts that the tears of weeping didn't have the last word. They knew God does great things. God changes weeping into joy.
In this season of a Covid Christmas, we are to live expectantly, fully convinced that the tears and weeping of our day don't have the last word. After all, aren't we the people waiting with expectation for tears to be changed into joy?
Advent is a time of expectation, of waiting; a time reminding us tears will be changed into joy. Advent reminds us that our waiting is not in vain.

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