One
hour remains, and we are at the gate. The journey that we have undertaken this
last year or so now comes to its pivotal point. One hour, and then we will say
farewell to the soil of our homeland. In this moment, as I sit here among team
members (quickly becoming dear friends), I pause and reflect on the various
pivotal moments of my life. Though my eyes are weary and my stomach has not
been very understanding of the situation, I have great peace. Despite initial
worries over my wife’s health, and concurrent worries of the health of our team
once we’ve reached our destination, I have peace. There is a quietness that
covers my spirit, and it draws my mind into its contemplative mode.
I wonder
how many similar events you have had in your own life; I suppose there are many
possibilities besides moving to another country. I can think of a few that have
happened to me in recent years. I remember the moments I spent prior to
dressing for graduation. I remember the hour in which I sat in the solitude of
a choir room before exchanging vows with my bride. I remember the final words,
the final tears, and the final embraces, of many individuals with whom I must
now part ways for a time. Perhaps you have, by this time, thought of a few such
instances in your own life.
As you
and I reflect on such moments, my mind begins to wonder about the experiences
of another person’s last hour. I think of the words he spoke to those closest
to him, knowing that he was about to leave them and return to where he had come
from. I think of the last moments he had to meditate upon all that he was about
to do. I wonder about the thoughts he had, if there were any hesitations or
strong feelings of anxiety. I wonder if he, like I have been doing lately,
gathered memories in his mind of all the wondrous experiences he had with those
whom he loved. Did he think back upon
the miracles, the parables, the exchanges with lowlifes and religious zealots
alike—did he think back upon the way he had touched each one of them?
Then I imagine
what he was looking ahead to. And it’s hard. It was hard for his followers, his
family, his friends. Surely it must have been hard for him. But there had to
have been a point in which he hesitated no longer, a moment in which he no longer
asked for another way. There had to be a point in which he committed himself to
his task; in that precious hour, when he knew all else would desert him, and he
knew that the masses would mock him, and he knew that the nations throughout
history would scorn him, he arrived at the haven of peace. Fully resigned to
his course, he surrendered himself to the command of his father.
And now, in this “last hour” of
mine, I imagine him thinking of me in his.
I
believe there was a hope that possessed him, once he had fully resigned himself
to the will of the one who sent him. And I believe that the same hope is now
possessing me. I hope that it will also possess each of you.
May we
always know that we are never without an advocate on our behalf, one who can
empathize with us in every trial, and at every turning point and juncture in
our lives. May we recall every “stone of remembrance” that he has given us. And
may we hold fast to the same, living hope in which he placed himself, and may
we be fully resigned to the greatest cause in the universe.
-Ryan
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