Three French Hens

Three French Hens

Faith, Hope, and Love's Endurance 

 “And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” 

— 1 Corinthians 13:13

      The third day of Christmas brings us three French hens—a strange little gift unless you understand old Christian symbolism. For centuries, believers connected these three hens to the three great virtues Paul wrote about in 1 Corinthians: faith, hope, and love.  These virtues are beautiful, but for someone who is grieving—especially during the Christmas season—they can also feel complicated and oftentimes feel in conflict with grief.  One of the misunderstandings that I had about grief is the ability for different emotions to co-exist with one another.  I previously thought that grief could cancel out hope, or that hope would over power grief, but instead they are able to perfectly live in the heart of the Christian.

      Paul first writes about faith.  When you lose someone special to you it feels like your faith is shaken.  You may still believe in God, but maybe you don’t believe like you once did.  Maybe your faith prior to you entering the arena of grief was shallow.  It existed, but it wasn't a priority.  Loss can make your prayers feel heavier.  Often we pray the same prayer again and again.  Our prayer life resembles a broken record.  Our quiet time becomes more of a duty or obligation versus a privilege. Grief can make heaven feel closer and God feel farther at the same time.  That might sound odd because while we feel comfort that our loved one is with Jesus, we feel like Jesus is further away from us at times.  It's almost as their proximity to Christ negatively affected ours.  And sometimes faith feels less like a confident proclamation and more like a trembling whisper:  “Lord… I’m still here. But I’m hurting.”

      The good news?  Jesus never demanded perfect faith from hurting people—only honest faith.  I had an idea of what faith looked like prior to losing Tiffanie.  It was a faith that was filled with fake smiles, a certain expectation of religion, and to some extent putting on a show even when life was hard.....but God doesn't want that kind of counterfeit faith.  He is looking for genuine,  honest, battle hardened faith.

      Hope feels fragile, almost like a porcelain doll.  Hope is hard when the future you imagined changed without your permission.  Hope takes on a different defintion because of your current life's circumstance.  Hope can feel like a risk—like if you start hoping again, you might get hurt again.  I remember how scary hope felt after Tiffanie passed away.  It was especially complicated when I started to date and fall in love again.  I worried silly things like 'what if she gets sick' or 'what if I get sick.'  My grief almost clouded my eyes from seeing hope again.

      During Christmas, when everything is supposed to feel bright and merry, hope may feel dim or distant.  But biblical hope isn’t about pretending things are okay.  It’s about trusting that God is still writing your story, even when the pages feel blank.  If you are grieving let me encourage you to take a step of faith and have hope again.  Cling to the promises that there is beauty in ashes, treasures in darkness, and that God will restore what the locusts have ate.  Hope again.  Hope in Christ who is faithful.

      Love feels painful.  When you’ve lost someone.  Love becomes both the source of your deepest comfort and your deepest ache.  It's an odd juxtaposition.  You loved deeply—and that love didn’t stop the moment they departed.  It's been over a year since Tiffanie passed away and I love her more today than I did a year ago.  This is why grief feels the way it does.  Grief is love with nowhere to go.  Read that again.  Meditate on that truth.  Grief isn't the opposite of love.  You don't grieve people who are strangers to you or your enemies.  You grieve people who you love, who were instrumental in your life.

      But Scripture reminds us: love remains.  Your love for them doesn’t disappear.  I think this is another misunderstanding to the cynics who watch you grieve.  They think because you press on with hope and love that your love for them diminishes or fades.  What a sad and wrong perception.  God’s love for you doesn’t flicker.  And the love you shared is part of what continues to shape you and will for the rest of your days.

      These three “remain” even when you don’t feel them.  I want to look at the word abide or remains in 1st Corinthians.  The Greek word here is in the present tense, meaning that these three things will ALWAYS remain, they won't disappear. Paul didn’t say these three things “might remain if you feel strong enough.”  He said they remain.  Not because you are holding them together, but because God is holding you together.  Faith remains—not because you never doubt, but because God is faithful.  Hope remains—not because the future is clear, but because God goes before you.  Love remains—not because you never hurt, but because God’s love is unbreakable and the love you shared was real.  Grief does not cancel faith.  Grief does not eliminate hope.  And grief never destroys love.

      Let's close up by examining the hen.  Hen's are extremely protective creatures.  They will do anything for the security of their chicks.  If need be they will die to save the live of their babies.  I carry this image into the words of Jesus, “How often would I have gathered your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings… (Matthew 23:37)." The heartbeat of the Savior is to draw us closely to Himself, to be held tenderly under His wings. To feel His nearness. 

      The image of the hen becomes beautiful here: Three hens—three virtues—three reminders that God gathers you close when life breaks apart.  Not away from the pain, but under His covering in the midst of it.  You do not walk with faith alone.  You do not carry hope alone.  You do not feel love alone.  God holds all three over you like wings.  Rest in those beautiful gifts this Christmas season.

Reflection Questions

1. Which of the three virtues—faith, hope, or love—feels strongest for you right now?
2. Which feels weakest? Why?
3. What would it look like to “rest under God’s wings” today in a practical way?  Write this down and look at it multiple times throughout the day.

Prayer

Lord, renew my faith, restore my hope, and steady my heart in love.