"It's that time of year,
leave all our hopelessness's aside,
If not just for a little while.
Tears stop right here
I know we've all had a bumpy ride.."
- Imogen Heap, Just For Now
It’s Christmas Eve Eve Eve and there have been some thoughts buzzing around my mind for too long that I’m going to put here now. To settle down the bees.
This is the one time of year when we wish each other “merry” and “happy” days. You say it to the man who bags your groceries at HEB, who you would normally not whisper a word to. “Merry Christmas” we exclaim to this stranger and that stranger.
What about those of us who cannot bring ourselves to feel this merriment right now?
(I wrote a similar blog about this during my first Christmas back from Africa here.)
For some people during this season, it doesn’t feel like Christmas. The annual elation they feel when the Christmas tree is decorated or the general excitement that others around seem to be pressing against them is dormant. I’m not necessarily speaking directly about depression, although that is definitely relevant to many people at this moment in time. I’m speaking about those who are not feeling like themselves for whatever reason this holiday. Maybe you’ve just been feeling a little down due to a recent cross country move to a city where you are a stranger. There’s a new sickness in the family. Your spiritual life seems dehydrated. Donald Trump haunts your dreams. Whatever it happens to be, you’re not alone.
There is a need inside of me, like a balloon that’s on the cusp of bursting, to urge each person reading this to look at the people around you. To look at the family members you know you will be around this holiday season or friends you already see on a regular basis, or that woman you work with who always keeps to herself. Sometimes it makes those of us who are experiencing these foreign feelings, or lack thereof, worse off when we are urged to “Be happy because it’s Christmas!” or “Don’t ruin the holidays with your neediness.” This is the time of year when people take time out of their holiday to volunteer at homeless shelters to feed the hungry, can we also remember those who need to be fed, not with food for the body, but with support for their souls? Maybe they need to be spoon fed with an extra portion of love. Or they just need someone to stop them in their tracks, as they fumble around their bag for their keys on their way out, and mention that they have noticed their recent lack in joy.
Empathy. Not pity.
If pity is all you have then you can keep it.
THAT is what this world needs right now. People that are FOR each other. People that are not scared of asking, with fierce sincerity, “How are you?” and actually wait around to hear the answer. People who are not so afraid that their own Christmas happiness will be tainted by stepping into the sadness or hurt that people they know are currently swimming or maybe even drowning in. I pray we would not be so selfish as that. To look the other way when someone, who doesn’t know how to ask for help or prayer, is standing in the same room as us...isolated. Detached.
This is the one time of year when we wish each other “merry” and “happy” days. You say it to the man who bags your groceries at HEB, who you would normally not whisper a word to. “Merry Christmas” we exclaim to this stranger and that stranger.
What about those of us who cannot bring ourselves to feel this merriment right now?
(I wrote a similar blog about this during my first Christmas back from Africa here.)
For some people during this season, it doesn’t feel like Christmas. The annual elation they feel when the Christmas tree is decorated or the general excitement that others around seem to be pressing against them is dormant. I’m not necessarily speaking directly about depression, although that is definitely relevant to many people at this moment in time. I’m speaking about those who are not feeling like themselves for whatever reason this holiday. Maybe you’ve just been feeling a little down due to a recent cross country move to a city where you are a stranger. There’s a new sickness in the family. Your spiritual life seems dehydrated. Donald Trump haunts your dreams. Whatever it happens to be, you’re not alone.
There is a need inside of me, like a balloon that’s on the cusp of bursting, to urge each person reading this to look at the people around you. To look at the family members you know you will be around this holiday season or friends you already see on a regular basis, or that woman you work with who always keeps to herself. Sometimes it makes those of us who are experiencing these foreign feelings, or lack thereof, worse off when we are urged to “Be happy because it’s Christmas!” or “Don’t ruin the holidays with your neediness.” This is the time of year when people take time out of their holiday to volunteer at homeless shelters to feed the hungry, can we also remember those who need to be fed, not with food for the body, but with support for their souls? Maybe they need to be spoon fed with an extra portion of love. Or they just need someone to stop them in their tracks, as they fumble around their bag for their keys on their way out, and mention that they have noticed their recent lack in joy.
Empathy. Not pity.
If pity is all you have then you can keep it.
THAT is what this world needs right now. People that are FOR each other. People that are not scared of asking, with fierce sincerity, “How are you?” and actually wait around to hear the answer. People who are not so afraid that their own Christmas happiness will be tainted by stepping into the sadness or hurt that people they know are currently swimming or maybe even drowning in. I pray we would not be so selfish as that. To look the other way when someone, who doesn’t know how to ask for help or prayer, is standing in the same room as us...isolated. Detached.
And for those who are the ones feeling down or unexplainably sullen, to be able to recognize when love is reaching out to you. To not keep our hearts locked away with the idea that our tenderness and grief will scare others away. Because if people do run away or shrink back when you share your messy insides, then they need to work some things out in their own lives.
Don’t disengage to self-protect, I’ve tried that and know from experience that it only injures more.
Love does not shrink back or look away. Love is longsuffering. Love cleans the wound with truth and empathy. Love then bandages the wound with hope and the reminder that they are not going anywhere. So that when the next day comes, even though you may be limping around or there’s still a sore spot on your heart, the moments can be faced with the knowledge that no matter what, you are loved.
Don’t disengage to self-protect, I’ve tried that and know from experience that it only injures more.
Love does not shrink back or look away. Love is longsuffering. Love cleans the wound with truth and empathy. Love then bandages the wound with hope and the reminder that they are not going anywhere. So that when the next day comes, even though you may be limping around or there’s still a sore spot on your heart, the moments can be faced with the knowledge that no matter what, you are loved.
“Empathy is not finite, and compassion is not a pizza with eight slices. When you practice empathy and compassion with someone, there is not less of these qualities to go around. There’s more. Love is the last thing we need to ration in this world. The refugee in Syria doesn’t benefit more if you conserve your kindness only for her and withhold it from your neighbor who’s going through a divorce. Yes, perspective is critical. But I’m a firm believer that complaining is okay as long as we piss and moan with a little perspective. Hurt is hurt, and every time we honor our own and the struggle of others by responding with empathy and compassion, the healing that results affects all of us.” - Brene Brown
In general, since we are humans and all that, we are going to love each other imperfectly. Try as we might, we are still going to cringe sometimes and say things that bruise hearts. But may we not forget that there is a perfect, holy love that cannot be diminished or taken back by any means and that is the love of Christ.
He is the one who has seen all the hidden hurts and tears or the venom that we have spewed at others when we cannot rightly articulate our damaged core.
When others run away, He is there.
When we want to run away even from ourselves, He is there.
“But you, O Lord, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head.” (Ps. 3:3)
He is the one who has seen all the hidden hurts and tears or the venom that we have spewed at others when we cannot rightly articulate our damaged core.
When others run away, He is there.
When we want to run away even from ourselves, He is there.
“But you, O Lord, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head.” (Ps. 3:3)
This is not me commanding you to go out and tell your tales of woe to the next person that smiles at you in the line at the bank, but for us to come to a place where we are not be ashamed of our isolated feelings or sadness.
May this put some fire under our asses to speak up or to ask.
May this put some fire under our asses to speak up or to ask.
Let the healing begin.
"Though the fig tree should not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold,
and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the LORD;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
God, the LORD, is my strength;
He makes my feet like the deer's,
he makes be tread on high places."
Habakuk 3:17-19
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