I suppose most would rather not think about death and loss at this time of year, but for the valley-walker, there is no escaping reality.
Mistletoe mocks. Once-tinseled trees lay bare. Family photos fill the mailbox with colorful reminders of incompleteness. Sobs shatter even the holiest of silent nights. Every celebration, a proclamation that someone won’t be home for Christmas.
If grieving out loud makes you uncomfortable, perhaps I can help you understand the plight of the sufferer. I truly hope so, for kindness may be the most precious and priceless gift you give this year.
Please hear this: no one invites grief—especially during the holidays. But grief doesn’t wait for an invitation. She doesn’t even knock. She just bursts in like a bulldozer and wreaks havoc on a life. She’s relentless. She’s ruthless. And the wreckage she leaves in her wake simply cannot be rebuilt in a day. Not even the most sacred of days.
Then, the holidays hover overhead and shine a spotlight on the rubble.
I know; I’ve been there. I sat on a sofa and watched three generations celebrate together, while my only child lay in a grave. I spent a Christmas in bed, losing yet another pregnancy. I lost custody of the precious girl we’d had since birth—the one we had already adopted in our hearts—one very dark Christmas eve. I spent a Christmas watching my baby sister lose her fight with cancer. And four years ago, I faced my first excruciating Christmas without the man who was supposed to be mine for another 25 years.
By God’s grace, I’ve also had many Christmases filled with joy and blessings, friends and family, laughter and love. But no matter how merry we are, there will always be moments of nostalgia for those who are missing from our table.
And so should there be!
Dearest family and friends, I pray that the Spirit of God will help us be sensitive to those who are hurting this season. Instead of judging them with our “encouragement,” may we bathe them in prayer and blanket them with compassion. It’s true, Christmas is a joyous time for all who have been redeemed by the Child whose birth we celebrate! We do have much for which to be thankful!
Suffering saints know these things. We need not add to their pain by minimizing it.
And to our friends who are knee-deep in the slough of sorrow this year, please know this; though this season feels lonely, you are not alone. We have a Savior who understands our pain and offers His comfort and peace. He willingly chose to set aside His glory to walk among us. He bore the weight of our sin, forsaken by His Father and by those He came to save. God-in-flesh felt the sting of death so He could offer hope to the hopeless!
- Hope that death itself has been defeated and has no dominion over us.
- Hope that sorrow is just for a season and joy will come in the morning.
- Hope that all those who trust in Him will join a celebration of His redemption that will last for all eternity… a celebration that our beloved ones are already enjoying.
And one glorious day—because Christmas happened—that baby born in the manger will wipe away all tears from our eyes.
Forever.
And that is what Christmas is all about. 🤍
You are loved!
🩷 Audra
