Entertaining Sad

Christmas!  It fills my every sense.  Like a delightful deluge of sights, sounds, smells… and all the feels!  It's one of my favorite times of the year.  Yes, I'm one of those crazies who opened the first Christmas box on October 31st.  I hold a deep-seated belief that Thanksgiving is a pre-celebration feast for Christmas Day!  And I stretch my Christmas décor out as long into January as I can get away with it.  (So, if you visit in mid-January, expect me to be still rocking my Christmas decorations!)  There's just something enchanting about all the festivities.  The lights and glittery displays capture my eyes, from my simple mantel and bird-clad pencil tree to the jaw-dropping million-bulb displays.  My nose constantly picks up on the tantalizing scents of cinnamon, ginger, rising yeast, apple cider, cookies, and pies!  And oh, what a party happens in my mouth – just ask my calorie log!  The best of the best sweets seems to pop up everywhere, bidden or not!  Pecan and buttermilk pies.  Mama's Hello Dollys or Jamie's Cookie Dough Dip!  Peppermint bark.  Mollie’s Pecan Bars.  Puppy Chow.  Mmmm… Aunt Laura’s yeast rolls that melt in your mouth along with that massive plop of butter!  And while my tongue savors the taste, my ears delight in the sounds of Christmas!  Handel's Messiah!  Oh, Holy Night.  Mary, Did You Know?  I'll Be Home for Christmas.  Go, Tell It On The Mountain!  Christmas in Dixie.  Oh, Come, Let Us Adore Him!  Little Drummer Boy.  Joy to the World!  We Three Kings.  Good King Wenceslas.  Oh, the list goes on!

Christmas 2013 was one of the most unique I've ever had.  I had just moved to Japan 13 short days before.  Since Christmas isn't a Japanese holiday, it went on like normal for those around me.  My day was everything but typical, though, as I sorted through the million and one emotions that filled my heart as a new expatriate.  I bundled up, got on my bike, and pedaled off for the closest thing that felt American – Micky D's!  I ordered a #1 Meal through a point-and-nod system that I would come to perfect!  Once I had my meal, I walked outside and sat on the steps encircling the mall’s large Christmas tree.  I popped in my ear pods and played Christmas music.  The music connected me with memories that were so real.  Each song brought a remembrance of Christmas past.  "I’ll be home for Christmas… if only in my dreams.”   “Christmas in Dixie, it’s snowing in the pines!”  “I'll have a blue Christmas without you… I'll be so blue just thinking about you.”  And then Handel’s Messiah would shout from the rooftops that I wasn’t alone because my Father God was “Wonderful, Counselor, Almighty God, the Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace!”  While sitting on those steps in the cold, savoring my Christmas fries, gently wiping tears from my eyes, and tapping the rhythm of the little drummer boy…  Christmas sure felt different than the other twenty-eight Christmases that had come and gone.  But as I sat there, trying to make sense of the emotions swelling inside me, the miles shrank when my family called on FaceTime!

Suddenly, my senses were filled with the crazy wonder of seven siblings talking at once and Mom and Dad wondering what they had started in 1975 when they said, “I do!”  We chatted and laughed at nothing in particular - enjoying “being together” from around the world.  Finally, the “We love you!  Merry Christmas!  Talk soon!” began, and I reluctantly hit the red button.  Packing up my laptop and walking back to my bike, I was melancholic.  Thinking.  Savoring.  Remembering.  Dreaming.  I focused on remembering how to ride a bicycle again and making it home safely in the dark.  I curled up in bed that night, snuggled under my Alabama blanket, and pondered many things in my heart. 

I remember Lovie’s first Christmas.  I had a Fisher Price nativity set open and ready for her play.  I woke her with, “Merry Christmas, my little one.”  I then put her on the ground and watched her crawl with abandon toward her new toy.  She looked back at me and smiled brightly.  After playing Nativity, we moved to the kitchen for Christmas cinnamon rolls in honor of Jesus’ Birthday!  Her interest in the other presents finally came, and she opened her toys, playing more with the wrapping paper than the toys themselves!  But seeing Christmas through her eyes was nothing short of amazing.    

Other Christmas memories fill my heart… often as the night steals across the sky.  Joyous memories with family and laughter.  Difficult memories when my health brought the festivities to an abrupt stop. 

Do you ever find yourself staring at the twinkling lights of your tree, filled with a confusing sadness?  While still entranced in the season, is there a tug of melancholy?  Or maybe it’s an outright tsunami of grief that washes over when you least expect it?  Tears don’t hold just because it’s December. 

I recently read a narrative by Donna Ashworth entitled Hosting Sad.  She muses, “Sometimes I wake up sad.  For no reason.  And I know, as soon as my eyes open, that today, I am sad.  I can choose positive thoughts, have a cold shower, or run on the treadmill, but I will still be sad.  And counting my blessings on days like this makes me even more sad.  How lucky I am and how tenuous that is.  How others are not so blessed and how unfair that is.  And I’ve learned to accept these little bouts of sad, or soul-flu, as I have now come to call them.  They are not within my control, this I know.  I don’t fear them anymore; they can’t harm me – because I don’t ‘become’ them.  I just let my ‘Sad’ in the door and say, “Hey, how are you? Take a seat… but don’t stay too long, please, I have things to do.”  And I rumble along in my mental kitchen, making tea and emptying the dishwasher.  And my Sad sits there and just exists without judgment or acrimony.  Just acceptance.  I know she is many things you see, other than just sad.  She is love.  She is grief.  She is fear.  She is weariness and worry.  And really, she puts up with rather a lot in this life.  So, I give her a cup of tea.  And listen to her sorrows until she’s ready to go back outside again.  Sometimes, I wake up, and Sad has already let herself in.  But I don’t scold her for that.  She’ll go soon.  And really, she deserves a warm place every now and again.  This world gives her much to bear.  Sometimes, I wake up sad.  For no reason.  And that’s okay.” 

While I may not agree with every concept above, I found myself drawn to the idea that sometimes my sidekick, Sad, just needs to be received.  Even at Christmas.  Maybe especially at Christmas.  Perhaps, if we take the uncomfortable steps of entertaining Sad, we might see the faithful Miracle of Christmas all the clearer!

For those of us who walk the tenuous line of chronic illness, simply having the calendar say December doesn’t wash away the hard.  My body still struggles to fulfill her duties daily, whether in December or July.  Doctor visits, infusions, and testing are still my main social engagements.  And while magic is in the air, my pain doesn’t magically disappear.   

Social media floods us with pictures of all the perfect events, the smiling kids, the best photos, the brightest smiles, and the Pinterest-worthy gingerbread villages!  And so often, I’m right there with them…  On cloud nine, I indulged in a delicious Chai Tea Latte, reveling in the beautiful sights and cherishing the extra time with family. 

But sometimes – even in December - I find Sad knocking at my door.  And instead of feeling guilty because Sad has come a callin’… maybe, just maybe, it’s okay to welcome her.  ‘Cause Christmas doesn't always look like I thought.  Plans are canceled.  Plans never get made.  Energy is still limited.  The ins and outs of my joy- and sorrow-filled life are still very real. 

I may greet Sad with, “Hey, how are you?  Take a seat… but don’t stay too long, please, I have things to do.”[1]   I open the door in this welcome, knowing that “weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.”[2]  I’m confident that even with Sad sitting on my couch, I can find my other confidant, Joy.  Sad can be holding my hand when I spot a glimmer to treasure. 

One of my favorite Christmas traditions with Lovie is the end of each night of Advent, reminding us that Jesus came to be the world's Light.  With all lights out, except for the Christmas sparkles, she crawls in my lap as we sing the old hymn, The Light of the World is Jesus. 

Me:

The whole world was lost in the darkness of sin,

Lovie:

The Light of the world is Jesus!

Me:

Like sunshine at noonday, His glory shone in,

Lovie:

The Light of the world is Jesus!

Together: 

Come to the Light, 'tis shining for thee;

Sweetly the Light has dawned upon me.

Once I was blind, but now I can see:

The Light of the world is Jesus![3]

Would we see that Baby born in a manger with such amazement if we didn’t know the world's darkness?  If all our stories were victories?  If all around us was sans sadness?  Perfection in moving color?  Would Bethlehem’s newest Child hold such a meaningful, earth-shattering, history-changing place in our hearts? 

Could we be told that Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart[4] because she entertained Sad, too?  Talk about plans going awry!  Giving birth in a barn.  Placing her beloved Son - who Gabriel said was the Savior of the world - in a feeding trough?  Seeing a star shining down on this tiny Babe who depended on her for everything!  Sad had to walk into that barn as Mary realized there would be no fanfare for her King-Son.  No one in the bursting town of Bethlehem even noticed His birth.  Well, except for the rag-tag group of teenage shepherds who showed up, questioning if her child was the one the angels had just told them about.  Maybe, just maybe, Sad came to visit Mary in the makeshift maternity ward.  Mary potentially welcomed Sad into her heart and let her sit a while.  So that when she heard the cries of Jesus that night and cradled Him to her chest, the miracle of His birth was just a little more miraculous.  Why?  Because she’d taken the time to engage Sad and acknowledge how the nations had yet to see her Jesus as the Light of the world.  She said hello to Sad as she looked into her Son's eyes and saw the path of pain before Him leading to Calvary.  Perhaps Mary entertained Sad that night. 

And perhaps you are finding Sad sitting on your couch this Christmas season.  Maybe she’s tagging along as you shop for the perfect gift or wrap that cherished find.  Could it be that Sad has invited herself to your party, and her melancholy is trailing your Christmas train?  Instead of trying to stuff her in the closet, maybe we should ask her in and pour her a cup of tea.  With the help of Sad, perhaps we can be reminded of the need for His light to shine on our lives.  Sad’s spotlight may help us savor the glimmers of Christmas all the more. 

This Christmas, I’m giving myself the freedom to feel all the emotions.  Sadness.  Joy.  Disappointment.  Excitement.  Exhaustion.  Invigoration.  Because in all these emotions, there is the stark reminder that Jesus, the Light of my world, has come!  And He has come to stay! 

May the Lord your God go with you, my lovely reader; May He never leave you or forsake you![5]

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[1] Hosting Sad by Donna Ashworth

[2] Psalm 30:5 (NIV)

[3] Written by Philip P. Bliss

[4] Luke 2:19 (NJKV)

[5] Taken from Deuteronomy 31:6