Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel!
Has ransomed captive Israel!
It took me about 2 hours off and on of singing it to listen to the words coming out of my own mouth.
It's not a secret that I struggle with joy. Having it, knowing what it is....it seems a mystery. He is teaching me, slowly.
It's not a coincidence that I woke up this morning with those words on my mind and an overhanging feeling of guilt and shame, not for any particular reason. It comes in waves, washing over, consuming and carrying me out to the depths.
And yet, before I knew I needed it, I had the answer already there, in the form of an old Christmas song. And it's not even Thanksgiving yet.
Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel!
Has ransomed captive Israel!
Me, being me, immediately thought of what an amazing song this was for Israel. (Not that I think they sung this exactly, but probably something like it). After all those years of wandering, captivity, and silence, they are ransomed. It was done. But a lot of them missed it. I might venture to say that most of them missed it, straining to see past the weird guy on the cross to see when the real salvation was coming. Only a few got it. Only a few sang the song.
And then I got ahead of myself. "Won't we rejoice when He comes for us, when he ransoms us?"
Instead of calling me fool, he just said, "Hey...look."
Isn't what I am anticipating, that day when we can finally rejoice...didn't that already happen?
Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel!
Has ransomed captive Israel!
Does my salvation from my captivity of sin, my guilt and shame heaped upon my head, mean any less than it did for Israel? Is it that commonplace for me?
Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter collide. Doesn't the joy I need come from the daily living of these three things?
He has come, it is finished. My soul gives thanks for what he has done.
May he cause joy to roll forth from our lips. May our eyes be not downcast. May he fill us with the knowledge of him. Wondrous are your deeds, Oh Lord!
Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel!
Has ransomed captive Israel!
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