5 AM. Bitter cold. Last trip to the airport for the year.

I turned on the car's ignition and fired up the heater. The radio came on - tuned to a 24-hour Christmas carol station. That could only mean one thing: my wife Danielle had been the last one to drive the car.

I'm not against Christmas carols in general, but I grow weary of them as they get non-stop play every December (esp. in airports!). There's one song I never tire of, though, and it just happened to be the one coming out of my car stereo that morning: Frank Sinatra's "I heard the bells on Christmas day."

You probably know the words - at least to the first and second verses:

I heard the bells on Christmas day,

their old familiar carols play

and wild and sweet their words repeat,

of peace on earth, good will to men.

I thought how as the day had come

the belfries of all Christendom

had roll'd along the unbroken song,

of peace on earth, good will to men.

At first glance the carol seems like a tender reminiscence on the worldwide celebration of Christ's birth. But just below the surface of those beautiful lyrics lies an amazing story of a broken man struggling to hold on to his belief in God and humanity.

"I heard the bells" was conceived by one of America's most beloved poets, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, as he walked alone one Christmas morning down a frosty street in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Longfellow's second wife has recently perished in a tragic, bizarre accident: she died from injuries suffered after her dress had caught on fire.

We can only imagine the pain in Longfellow's heart that solitary Christmas morning. He had already lived through two other significant tragedies: he first wife had died, followed by his daughter. He had found love again after so many hard years and then...this?

And what of the nation he loved? As he put one foot in front of the other he called to mind the sound of the booming cannons as the North and South threw themselves viciously at one another in a great Civil War. What Abraham Lincoln had called "the last best hope of earth," had become a nightmarish theater of unprecedented slaughter - neighbor against neighbor, brother against brother.

Utter loneliness. Hopelessness. The third verse expresses Longfellow's sorrow:

And in despair I bowed my head

there is no peace on earth, I said

for hate is strong and mocks the song

of peace on earth, good will to men.

Hopelessness transcends every generation and every culture. Recently the news reported that a famous diplomat passed away after an unsuccessful surgery to repair a torn aorta. This man's last words were, "You've got to stop this war in Afghanistan." He died of a broken heart - both literally and figuratively. For decades he had traveled the world pleading for peace. Yet on his death bed, he found himself grappling with the awful recognition that peace is one thing human wisdom alone can never bring.

Psalm 78 counsels the children of Israel to teach God's principles to children "so that they will set their hope in God and not forget the works of God, and not be like their fathers, a generation whose heart was not steadfast."

First Peter 3:15 says to "always be ready to give an answer for the hope that you have," an admonition that assumes that we have hope, and that we know and can explain its source.

Although we may never understand exactly what caused Longfellow to turn the corner and embrace hope, the snapshot in our minds of a despairing poet meandering down that wintry lane doesn't end in despair. Indeed, the final verse of his carol expresses something else entirely:

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep

God is not dead, nor does He sleep

the wrong shall fail, the right prevail

with Peace on earth, good will to men.

What a message of hope! God is alive and awake. But our reason for hope is even greater than Longfellow expressed. God Himself actually stepped into this world He created, coming into history through a magnificent entrance onto the world stage...as a helpless baby, born in a humble barn, sleeping in a feed trough. And this Immanuel - this God who is with us - is He who willingly subjected himself to death on the cross to pay the penalty for our sin.

This gives us the hope of heaven, certainly. But it also gives us hope for now as well as later - the hope that Christ is bringing transformation right here on earth: "the wrong shall fail, the right prevail, with Peace on earth, good will to men."

Living a message of hope, and carrying it to others, is the reason we at Passing the Baton are so passionate about seeing Christians reclaim the ancient and essential art of mentoring. Thanks for the ways that you have been, and continue to be, a part of this mission.

A very Merry Christmas to you and yours!

Jeff Myers