This Christmas I’m suffering a case of the humdrums. Not the humbugs and certainly not the ho-ho-hos, but just a sense of malaise. As I have pondered my state of mind, I realize that it has nothing to do with the meaning of Christmas. When I stop to contemplate the birth of Jesus and all that led up to and followed that hinge in history, my soul is peaceful, calm, and in awe. Yet when I stop to think about the cultural manifestations around the holiday: the parties, the gatherings, the family celebrations, and the gift giving, I find I am mildly meh. I see the excitement and anticipation in other people, my children included, but this year I am not feeling it.
Why? That is the question I have struggled to ask and answer honestly. I have tried the answers of "I'm just tired" or "We're stretched thin this year" or "The weather has been particularly dreary and weary," but I know those are not the truth. The honest answer is that something is different. This year I am grieving, and not in the way I anticipated.
Some of you may know that earlier this year my Granny died after a brief illness. I knew that I would miss her, but I was unprepared for how deeply her passing would affect my understanding of what it means to celebrate. For the first time in my life Christmas will be celebrated without Grandpa or Granny, and it has left me a little unmoored. I am grieving her, but I am also grieving all the memories and traditions that she touched. Moving forward I am not sure what celebrations look like when we are back in Colorado: the house we gathered in as a family for over 40 years, and the loving owners of that home, are both gone.
The reality is that we will eventually find the new normals. We will at some point find the new rhythms, the new traditions. It won’t be the same but it will still be good. This is, hopefully, true for anyone who is grieving. I know my situation is mild compared to some. There are some where the grief of loss and pain is much closer to home, where the humdrums are a good day. The reality is that past years have been wonderful, but this year? This year it’s okay for everything to not be okay. This year there is nothing wrong with dwelling on the memories and mourning that the memories are what we have left. If it is still a struggle next year? That is alright as well. I am here to remind anyone who needs to hear it that it’s okay to not feel the excitement or anticipation. I’m here to remind us all that you can be joyful and still be sorrowful. We don't celebrate Christmas because of family or friends or traditions or presents. We celebrate because it helps us remember the day that God broke through, when God made a way.
This year I find myself drawn to the messianic prophecy in Isaiah 61:1-3: The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to grant to those who mourn in Zion— to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning
The poor. The brokenhearted. The captive. Those who mourn. Prior to this year I would read those descriptions and assume these people are those that don’t know Jesus. That certainly is partly true, but the Gospel should be Good News for everyone, including those who have walked with Jesus for years. Daily I need reminding that we are all poor, at times we are all brokenhearted, held captive by various things, and mournful. Jesus came to give us hope through those seasons, to walk with us all the way home.
As we move through this Christmas season may we remember the Good News that Jesus sets the captives free and is near to those who mourn. I am so thankful for a season that calls us to remember that he came as a baby and lived the life he lived as Emmanuel. Christmas is not just so we can remember what he has done, but, perhaps more so, so we can know the hope he brings. He is near to those that believe in him. He is with us when we feel happy, humdrum, horrible, and everything in between. Even when life and circumstances feel (or are) dreary, weary, and painful, there is hope beyond this moment because he lives.
Comments