Where are All the Stockings?

The day after Thanksgiving, I’m pulling out the boxes of Christmas decorations, my young children, husband and I having braved the crowds at the corner lot to buy a Christmas tree.  I string lights on the tree and hang a wreath on my front door, but even though there is festive music playing in the background, my mood is not festive.  I am sort of going through the motions, my heart not really in the Christmas spirit.  I am mentally counting down the days until December 25, wondering how I will make it through until then.  Wondering how I can possibly make this season into a happy, magical one for my kids.

My far away thoughts are brought to a screeching halt as my attention is drawn to the mantle of our fireplace.  Or more specifically, to the conspicuous absence of stockings hung on the mantle of our fireplace.  Not too long ago, our mantle was crammed full of stockings – for our young adult children, for the significant people in their lives, for the foster children who were living with us, for the youngest members of our family.  There were so many stockings, they almost didn’t fit!  I remember staring at all those stocking one evening, when the house was quiet and filled with the smell of fresh pine, and thinking to myself, my heart is full!

That isn’t my story this season.  This time, my heart doesn’t feel full at all.  I am asking myself this year, Where are all the stockings?  The nearly empty mantle is taunting me, representing loneliness and great loss, the changes that can happen in a person’s life when he or she least expects it.  

I am not alone in feeling this way.  Some of my dearest friends and I have had, quite frankly, a year that has been full of heartache and pain.  Struggles that we never thought would happen to nice people like us.  Altogether we have been irreparably impacted by overwhelming circumstances, like a gigantic tidal wave of grief and sorrow.  We have faced debilitating mental illness that keeps our families in a perpetual state of high alert; powerful addictions that seem impossible to break; the long hard road of unemployment, wondering how to provide for our families;  the sudden, unexplainable loss of a beloved child; the shame and dark despair of incarceration; shocking suicide attempts; a failed business venture; the abandonment of a spouse who had once vowed to be faithful; domestic violence so dangerous, so out of control that we had no choice but to call the police; a prodigal child who may or may not ever come home; a precious grandchild who, due to broken family relationships, we may never know; the terrifying diagnosis of a terminal illness.

As we face such tragic and devastating circumstances, how can we enter this season with joy?  In the midst of all of that grief and suffering, how can we be thankful?  When our hearts are so heavy that, in spite of our brave faces, the tears keep overflowing long into the night, is it even possible to find peace, that elusive peace that the birth of Jesus promised to bring?  When I stand in front of the fireplace and ask myself, Where are all the stockings?, how can this still be a happy, magical season?

Presence

For those of us who are broken hearted, there is good news.  An encouraging, life-giving truth that God is near to us in our grief.  (Psalm 34:18)  Perhaps He is even nearer to us during this season of pain than during any other time.  We may not feel it, and some days we find it hard to even believe that it’s true, but He is near.  A breath away.  

The God of the universe, the One who determines the number of the stars, the One who gives to all of them their names is the same God that is right here with us, healing the brokenhearted and binding up our wounds (Psalm 147:4).  He reminds us that we have not been forgotten!  He sees our tears.  He knows the impossible circumstances that we face.  May that truth bring comfort and joy to us!  When our hearts feel just as empty as the mantle of the fireplace, His very presence with us can cause us to say, My heart is full!  

Promise

There are so many beautiful, unshakeable promises in God’s Word, if only we will take the quiet moments to read them and remember them and pray for more faith to believe that they are absolutely true.  All those promises?  They are for us!  For me!  When God says Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand (Isaiah 41:10), we can trust that He will do just as He has promised to do.  

He is not expecting us to be stronger or braver, to ignore the difficult circumstances and pretend that everything is just silver bells and candy canes.  When we are mentally counting down the days until December 25, wondering how we will make it through until then, He promises to be with us and to strengthen us, to help us and to uphold us.  When the burdens are too heavy to carry, He promises to bear them for us.  Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows. (Isaiah 53:4)  He knows that the griefs and the sorrows are way too heavy for our frail shoulders too bear.  Surely He has borne them for us.

It is in searching for those promises, in clinging to those promises with both hands, that we may find peace, that elusive peace that the birth of Jesus promised to bring.

Perspective

When our world crumbles and the ground shifts underneath our feet, when our life seems to be falling apart around us, it feels unbearable.  It is excruciatingly painful.  But it is here, in the rubble, in the emptiness that we have been given a unique gift that we might otherwise never have been able to receive.  Wait, what?  A gift?  How can this - this heartbreak, these broken relationships, the loss of people we love the most – how can this be a gift?  

Because now that everything else has been taken away, we have a new perspective.  We understand with tear-stained eyes what God means when He says, My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.  (2 Corinthians 12:9)  No longer can we boast in our capabilities or in our perfect Norman Rockwell families or in our strong faith or in a mantle overflowing with stockings.  We don’t have any of those things!  No, but now we can boast all the more gladly of our weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon us.  Now that we are at our very weakest, we have a new appreciation for the power of Christ.  It is the gift of His strength, not our own, that fills us with awe and magical wonder.

People

Our families and our dreams and our health may be broken.  We may have lost – temporarily or permanently - those who are the dearest and most precious to us.  The deep voids in our hearts and in our lives may never be fully healed and filled.  However, as we have faced these tragic and devastating circumstances, we have learned in a real and tangible way that we are not alone.  

We have met others who have faced similar heartache.  Others who, although they may not fully understand the depths of our grief, have come alongside us to support us and pray with us, to send us notes of encouragement, to cry with us.  Others whom we might otherwise never have met.

There are the pastors in our churches who see the urgent texts, drop everything, and come. There are the members of our Small Group who never tire of seeing our tears.  There are the friends who don’t mind the middle-of-the-night phone calls.  The ones who remind us that in the darkest night when there seems to be no hope, He is the God who sees.  There are the acquaintances we have known for many years, the ones who, now that we find ourselves on a similar path, we have come to know in a deeply personal way.  There are the sisters who take time off work and fly all the way across the country so that they can say, in person, I love you.  Do not lose hope.

When we remember all these people, the kindred spirits whom God has brought into our lives, who have walked this painful journey alongside us, whose hearts have been forever bonded together with ours, it enables us to enter this season with joy.

I don’t have to make it to December 25.  I just need to make it through today.  And today, in spite of all I have lost, I can remember how much I have been given!  I have been given God’s very presence to comfort me.  His promises to carry my burdens.  A renewed perspective of His strength.  People to walk this journey alongside me.  Even in the deepest pain and most difficult struggles, I can give thanks!  I can find peace and joy and the magic of the season.

There are still tears.  There are still moments when I wonder, Where are all the stockings?  But I cannot allow that nearly empty mantle of the fireplace to define me.  To steal my joy.  This evening, when the house is quiet and filled with the smell of fresh pine, my heart can be filled with gratitude.  It can be filled with peace and joy and hope.  I can still think to myself, and still choose to believe it and still feel it and still say it: My heart is full!