Hope is the Big Picture of Life
Today’s reading: Luke 24:13-31
I heard a story yesterday of a couple who had been happily married for more than 50 years. Such tales always inspire the skeptic in me.
“I bet not all of those 50 years were happy,” I said to my friend.
And it just so happens I was right. It turns out that this happy couple’s wedded bliss was marred by several dark periods that lasted years.
But over half a century, even five or six years is just a blip, my friend pointed out. A few years before the husband’s death, this marriage finally achieved full bloom, and both souls were as happy as could be. The dark years were insignificant in the big picture of their love.
Hearing this reminded me of one of my own dark periods.
In 1999, I told my father that I would never talk to him again — and I left his sight for 2 years. I hung up the phone upon recognizing his voice, and I sent several letters back to him unopened.
But then one day, out of the blue, I called to offer him a ticket to come visit me. (I had moved more than 200 miles away by then, and he had no idea where I was living.)
That reunion was the beginning of some great of years of healing. This period has culminated in Dad’s recent request of me to write a book about our lives together.
About three years ago Dad and I learned that the root of our former problems had been an undiagnosed case of Asperger’s syndrome. This form of autism had been part Dad’s life since his childhood, yet we discovered it at age 72. Now that we both finally understand Dad’s occasionally bizarre behavior, he and I are as close as a man and his son can be. Many will say we’re inseparable.
Just last night, it was heart warming to look up into the viewing area of the tennis center where I was losing my league match and see my father clapping for my few good shots. After the match, he gave me a “high five,” and said he hadn’t been following the score. He actually thought I’d won! (I lost 6-2, 6-1)
Neither Dad nor I ever give much thought anymore to those two silent years between us (or to the years of turmoil that led to that split). We simply love one another, and we know that our love is the big picture.
All of this comes to mind today as I ponder today’s reading:
“Then he said to them, ‘Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?'” (Verses 25-26)
On the path to joy, we will all be asked to endure pain. But joy is God’s ultimate promise, and we who would give up on it are foolish indeed.
Thanks be to God for everlasting hope. May it stay with me (and us) forever.