Photo by freestocks via Upsplash.
Snuggled in a hooded sweatshirt the climate rarely allowed, in a room lit with the soft glow of a small strand of battery powered lights wrapped around a tiny tree, I listen to the well-sung words:
“Joy to the world; the Lord is come;
Let Earth receive her King;
Let every heart prepare him room,
And heaven and nature sing.”
Part of my heart swells with a resounding, “Yes! Joy to the world! Let every heart be moved by the coming of the King! Let’s join in chorus with the mountains and the hills, singing His praise, and His alone!”
And yet, part of my heart is filled with grief.
I miss my Grandma’s house on Christmas Eve, the way every space was filled as our family grew.
I miss the need for boots and sweaters, the way I effortlessly feel both cozy and cute.
I miss candles that aren’t swarming with mosquitoes, the way the uninterrupted soft glow somehow warms the soul.
I miss homemade Chex mix and rocky road, the way the complimentary salty and sweet communicate love from the hands that prepared them.
I miss beautifully decorated, real pine trees, and even their mess, the way they bring beauty and light wherever they are.
And I think my heart breaks the most when I think about not being able to share these things with my sons. When I think about how we have been traveling two Advent Sundays in a row. When I think about how we don’t get to wonder at Christmas lights together. When I think about them missing out on memory making at their Grandma’s houses at Christmas.
Christmas wasn’t always full of good memories. There were parts of my childhood Christmases that were ugly and so full of heartbreak. There were multiple Christmases spent enveloped in fear of man.
But oddly enough, I think that made me love the Christmas season all the more.
Because Christmas is a time to look outside of the ugliness of humanity. It’s an entire season dedicated to highlighting both the transcendence and the intimacy of God. We don’t simply remember His arrival – we marvel at the fact that He would come at all!
Friend, He willingly came into the world where your grief exists. Where your anger exists. Where your crushed spirit exists. He stepped into the muck and mire and lived life in the limited body of a man, then willingly went to the cross where He atoned for our sins, while we were still sinners (Phil. 2:6-8; Rom. 5:8). Not because we did anything to deserve it, but because of His great love for us (Eph. 2:4-5). And then, He conquered death, rising from the grave and ascending back into heaven, where He sits at the right hand of God (Eph. 1:20).
Christmas time is not merely an opportunity to remember the miracle of His first coming. It is also a time to look forward to His second, when pain and suffering will be no more, and we will be united with Him for all eternity.
“And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.’ He who was seated on the throne said, ‘I am making everything new!’…”
Revelation 21:3-5, NIV
Maybe you are feeling joy this season. Maybe you are feeling grief. Or maybe, like me, you’re just a chaotic mix of all the things. God sees you. He knows you. He loves you as you are and He loves you enough to not let you stay as you are. And He is inviting you to look up. He is inviting you to worship and wonder.
One of my favorite Christmas hymns is “O come, O come Emmanuel,” but we often don’t sing my favorite part. I invite you to read the following, verses 6 and 7 from this song, as a prayer, a liturgy, for the season:
“O come, O Bright and Morning Star,
and bring us comfort from afar!
Dispel the shadows of the night
and turn our darkness into light.
O come, O King of nations, bind
in one the hearts of all mankind.
Bid all our sad divisions cease
and be yourself our King of Peace.“
Friends “come, let us adore Him. We’ll praise His name forever. We’ll give Him all the glory. For He alone is worthy, Christ, the Lord.”
Faithfully,
P.S. Below is a Spotify playlist of all the songs I referenced in this post (and a few more). I shamelessly love Christmas music. If this player doesn’t work, just click here to open up Spotify.
Joy From Fear 