Yesterday was Gaudete
Sunday, so let’s talk a little about holiday joy.
There’s such pressure for us to be joyful during this
time. Savior born! Family togetherness! Bright colors, yule log, bubbles in the
wine, miracles, feasting and kids on Santa’s lap. Everything meant to be
perfect, sparkling, cinnamon and nutmeg, happy.
Jesus wept—it it’s enough to make you open a vein when your heart feels as hollow as a dried gourd because of grief or loss that you’ve
suffered in recent times. There is nothing like mandatory merrymaking to lay a
pall of darkness on your soul. We are engulfed in a relentless Christmas
machine that can be more destructive than the 82nd Airborne, and it overwhelms our lives, even when we have all the "proper" pieces in place.
My Christmas song today, from the Indigo Girls, speaks to
this. I sent it to my BFF last September, because I feared (rightly) that if I
waited until Christmas she wouldn’t hear it, and I wanted her to.
Listen to “There’s Still My Joy”, and if you’re in that
awful place of pain, try metaphorically laying bread on the branches of
whatever tree you prefer. Let the birds sing to you, and think about past joys
that can return—if not this year, then in future ones.
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