I read this article, link below, about getting ready for the holidays and having a plan to deal with grief in this season. I thought it was a good read and wanted to share:
Prepare Yourself for the Holidays
My beloved husband passed away on June 24, 2016. Writing often helps me process the pain and manage the flood of emotions. So below are just some random thoughts, prayers, and revelations, as I attempt to navigate this road of grief, by the loving grace of God. 2 Corinthians 1:3-4
Saturday, November 26, 2016
Thursday, November 24, 2016
Thanksgiving
"I give thanks to God always when I remember you." (Phil. 1:4)
Today marks five months since Ryan's death. How does time go both so slowly and so quickly at the same time? Today is also Thanksgiving and I am left wondering how to "give thanks" on a day like today. But we give thanks, not because of how we feel or what situations we find ourselves in, but because of who God is.
It is a good thing to give thanks - to confess that God is deeply good, even when everything about the world feels like it's not. And proclaiming "God is good" is not some cliche statement saved for our good days, when all is happy. "God is good" is a radical, defiant cry for our most terrible days. It is our saving lifeline when all is too difficult. So I give thanks today for who our God is and for each of my dear family and friends who have reached out and been an extension of God's goodness to the kids and I in this difficult year. I give thanks for you. Always.
Sunday, November 13, 2016
broken
I am currently reading "The Broken Way - A Daring Path into the Abundant Life" by Ann Voskamp. It is a beautiful book. She is a beautiful writer. Here is a quote from today that really spoke to me:
"The seed breaks to give us the wheat. The soil breaks to give us the crop, the sky breaks to give us the rain, the wheat breaks to give us the bread. And the bread breaks to give us the feast. There was once even an alabaster jar that broke to give Him all the glory... Never be afraid of being a broken thing.
"For a seed to come fully into its own, it must become wholly undone. The shell must break open, its insides must come out, and everything must change. If you didn't understand what life looks like, you might mistake it for complete destruction... Brokenness can make abundance."
"The seed breaks to give us the wheat. The soil breaks to give us the crop, the sky breaks to give us the rain, the wheat breaks to give us the bread. And the bread breaks to give us the feast. There was once even an alabaster jar that broke to give Him all the glory... Never be afraid of being a broken thing.
"For a seed to come fully into its own, it must become wholly undone. The shell must break open, its insides must come out, and everything must change. If you didn't understand what life looks like, you might mistake it for complete destruction... Brokenness can make abundance."
Saturday, November 12, 2016
your presence
This is such a painfully accurate view of loss and grief. A lot of times people in our lives unintentionally "complicate" our grief. The best thing you can do for a grieving person is simply sit by their side, breathe so they remember to, and let them not be okay. What they need most is to know it is okay to not be okay. It is in this quiet "not-okay-ness" that God begins to work. God draws near to the broken-hearted and it is He who binds up their wounds. But it it is a process that needs space and time to happen. People who rush in to try to "fix" the situation, cheer a grieving person up, or who jump into service are possibly getting in God's way. And those who back away in fear are missing the opportunity for God to use their presence as a healing agent. So if you have a friend or family member shocked by the chaos of a sudden grief and you have no idea what to do, or they seem to ignore your request to help, just know it is totally okay to simply show up and sit silently by their side. Listen if they need an ear, offer a shoulder if they need to cry, bring them a glass of water, but mostly just be there. Your presence acknowledges to them that it is okay to not be okay - and that is enough. It really is enough. Because God handles the rest.
"Praise the Lord. How good it is to sing praises to our God, how pleasant and fitting to praise him!
The Lord builds up Jerusalem; he gathers the exiles of Israel.
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.
He determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name.
Great is our Lord and mighty in power; his understanding has no limit.
The Lord sustains the humble but casts the wicked to the ground.
Sing to the Lord with grateful praise; make music to our God on the harp.
He covers the sky with clouds; he supplies the earth with rain and makes grass grow on the hills.
He provides food for the cattle and for the young ravens when they call.
His pleasure is not in the strength of the horse, nor his delight in the legs of the warrior;
the Lord delights in those who fear him, who put their hope in his unfailing love.
Extol the Lord Jerusalem; praise your God, Zion.
He strengthens the bars of your gates and blesses your people within you.
He grants peace to your borders and satisfies you with the finest of wheat.
He sends his command to the earth; his word runs swiftly.
He spreads the snow like wool and scatters the frost like ashes.
He hurls down his hail like pebbles. Who can withstand his icy blast
He sends his word and melts them; he stirs up his breezes, and the waters flow.
He has revealed his word to Jacob; his laws and decrees to Israel.
He has done this for no other nation; they do not know his laws.
Praise the Lord." (Ps. 147)
Friday, November 11, 2016
veterans day
So today is Vererans day. In years past it was a day of joy for our family. Ryan of course had the day off and we would go through the list of places that offer "freebies" to veterans and then plan our outings and meals around that. It became almost a tradition to discuss and make our family plans - the free donut at Kristy Kreme, free admission to such & such theme park or event, free lunch/dinner at such & such restaurant, etc... Veterans Day became a day of family togetherness for us. This year I saw that annual list published and my first thought was to plan our day, immediately followed by the sadness that this year is different - my veteran is not here. I am trying to be thankful for Ryan's service to our country today, but the ugly reality is that I am a little bit angry about his service to our country, because Ryan served and it was in his service that his tender heart was stressed and broken. He served his country with all he had, but I kind of feel like our country did not serve him back. Our country is not protecting the "22 a day" that have given and struggle.
I have said before that I do not do anger well. So as I struggle with Veterans Day this year, I am acutely aware of the anger I feel and am hoping to refocus it somewhere productive. I know many will extend a "thank you for your service" to the military members and the families they know today. But maybe this year, as you thank a military member, also offer to be there for them. Ask your veteran friends how they are doing. Really truly doing. Then listen. Listen to their stories. Listen to their proud moments and their struggles. Be a safe place for them to share. Let your thank you gift be a heart open to listening. Maybe this Veterans Day we can offer more than just saying thanks and offering a freebie - maybe it can be a day where we SHOW our thanks by supporting our veterans with the gift of our presence and our sincere interest in their wellbeing. And then let's keep doing that every. single. day. and not just on November 11th. ❤️
I have said before that I do not do anger well. So as I struggle with Veterans Day this year, I am acutely aware of the anger I feel and am hoping to refocus it somewhere productive. I know many will extend a "thank you for your service" to the military members and the families they know today. But maybe this year, as you thank a military member, also offer to be there for them. Ask your veteran friends how they are doing. Really truly doing. Then listen. Listen to their stories. Listen to their proud moments and their struggles. Be a safe place for them to share. Let your thank you gift be a heart open to listening. Maybe this Veterans Day we can offer more than just saying thanks and offering a freebie - maybe it can be a day where we SHOW our thanks by supporting our veterans with the gift of our presence and our sincere interest in their wellbeing. And then let's keep doing that every. single. day. and not just on November 11th. ❤️
Tuesday, November 8, 2016
election day emotions
Election day evoked a lot of emotions and a little bit of stress for me. But probably not in the same way it did for most others Americans this day. My emotions and stress had very little to do with the election or the candidates or even politics - it had everything to do with memories. You see, four years ago, for the last election cycle, when President Obama was running for reelection we were living in Washington DC and Ryan was working for the White House Communications travel team. Ryan had the stressful job of traveling with the President to all his campaign stops across the country, working the behind the scenes work, driving motorcade routes, setting up teleprompters, all the work that few people see or even know happens with every single city the President makes a quick stop in. It was an exhausting year for our family. So with every campaign rally I saw on TV, my mind went back to Ryan's descriptions of these events. Below are a few pictures Ryan took four years ago. To be honest, I am not sure if I am "supposed to" share these pictures, but at this point with Ryan's career not being in jeopardy and President Obama's term finishing, I am going to share them anyway. Ha!
And all the images of Washington DC that flashed on our television screen were so familiar to me, as we spent three years exploring and getting to know that city as our home. In one of the familiar webcam backdrops that CNN uses for their news reports, we can actually spot our home there on the Potomac (if you zoom in and know where to look!). The little black arrow here to the left is pointing to it. My kids always say, "there's our old house!" when they see it on TV.
I have such mixed emotions about my opinion of that city. It was an AMAZING place to live, so much to do and see. We were blessed to have time there. Our family has so many happy memories of walking the National Mall, seeing the monuments, Smithsonians, soaking in American history and government first-hand. I loved our time there. But it was also one of the most stressful times we ever had as well.
The workplace mentality in the city of Washington DC is a kind of "every man for themselves" atmosphere. Military members are trained to have each others backs, but in DC, working in a unit that directly supports the White House, we did not see that. The stress level and the consequences of making even the tiniest mistake in that politically-charged environment can cost a person their career - and the security of knowing others would be there to help you just does not exist. We found it so incredibly disappointing and frustrating that the politics of finding it acceptable to throw another under the bus to boost your own status bled over into military mentality of units in Washington DC. Ryan could talk about the stress of being in Iraq and having to duck under his bed when rockets came over the walls into their compound but he often said that he knew everyone in the desert was watching out for each other and he could handle it. That even if his life was at risk, it was for a good and noble purpose and he trusted those around him to be there for him - and vice versa. But in Washington DC, the stress of working for the White House was often unbearable. Careers could be lost for the tiniest slip-up - a phone cable with static on the line, a paper put in the wrong place, a printer not printing correctly, a presidential placard falling off a podium (it happened during a presidential address one time & one of Ryan's co-workers was severely disciplined for it). And all that stress and zero margin of error was not to save lives, like in a war-zone, it was simply so that a political leader would not be slightly inconvenienced. Ryan often talked about how he could understand the stress in the desert - lives were at stake. But to deal with the extreme stress that the president possibly having a little static on his phone line (when he had five other phones ready and waiting) seemed "silly" or so trivial in the grand scope of what is happening in our world. It was a source of frustration for Ryan - and one that I have hoped to share with the White House Communications Association (WHCA) leaders to evoke change. Our military leaders owe their troops better than this type of environment. It was while in DC, dealing with these frustrations, that I first saw Ryan struggle with life and struggle to make sense of the situations life had put him in, comparing both his time and duties in the Middle East with his time and duties then in Washington DC. In hindsight, it was really a mental struggle that plagued Ryan more than any of us ever knew.
So as I sat watching election night unfold, my mind went back to Ryan's conversations about WHCA and what seems to me to be such useless stresses that he was put through - and it made me very emotional. But I also was watching the familiar sights of one of my "homes" (each place we were stationed became a home to us) and I missed DC at the same time. That city is full of so many extremes for me - extreme sorrow, extreme joy. But it boils down to the fact that I miss Ryan and I can not look at that city without a flood of sorrow and a flood of happy, joyous memories of our time there too. Outside of work, Ryan loved exploring the city and we had SO much fun together there, the four of us, on his days off. Ryan told his mental health provider (she shared this with me a few months ago) there that his best days were the days the four of us set off on an adventure downtown and his worst days were the ones he was traveling with WHCA - such highs and such lows - just so many emotions.
Again, not sure I'm "supposed to" have these pictures, but here they are anyway - Ryan took these in the Oval Office. The statue is a Remington that sits in the office. Ryan was there before sunrise a lot of mornings to check phone lines.
picture taken while sitting inside a motorcade vehicle, waiting for event at the Capitol |
on the airport tarmac, beside AF One, at a campaign stop |
our house was right there on the Potomac River |
And all the images of Washington DC that flashed on our television screen were so familiar to me, as we spent three years exploring and getting to know that city as our home. In one of the familiar webcam backdrops that CNN uses for their news reports, we can actually spot our home there on the Potomac (if you zoom in and know where to look!). The little black arrow here to the left is pointing to it. My kids always say, "there's our old house!" when they see it on TV.
I have such mixed emotions about my opinion of that city. It was an AMAZING place to live, so much to do and see. We were blessed to have time there. Our family has so many happy memories of walking the National Mall, seeing the monuments, Smithsonians, soaking in American history and government first-hand. I loved our time there. But it was also one of the most stressful times we ever had as well.
The workplace mentality in the city of Washington DC is a kind of "every man for themselves" atmosphere. Military members are trained to have each others backs, but in DC, working in a unit that directly supports the White House, we did not see that. The stress level and the consequences of making even the tiniest mistake in that politically-charged environment can cost a person their career - and the security of knowing others would be there to help you just does not exist. We found it so incredibly disappointing and frustrating that the politics of finding it acceptable to throw another under the bus to boost your own status bled over into military mentality of units in Washington DC. Ryan could talk about the stress of being in Iraq and having to duck under his bed when rockets came over the walls into their compound but he often said that he knew everyone in the desert was watching out for each other and he could handle it. That even if his life was at risk, it was for a good and noble purpose and he trusted those around him to be there for him - and vice versa. But in Washington DC, the stress of working for the White House was often unbearable. Careers could be lost for the tiniest slip-up - a phone cable with static on the line, a paper put in the wrong place, a printer not printing correctly, a presidential placard falling off a podium (it happened during a presidential address one time & one of Ryan's co-workers was severely disciplined for it). And all that stress and zero margin of error was not to save lives, like in a war-zone, it was simply so that a political leader would not be slightly inconvenienced. Ryan often talked about how he could understand the stress in the desert - lives were at stake. But to deal with the extreme stress that the president possibly having a little static on his phone line (when he had five other phones ready and waiting) seemed "silly" or so trivial in the grand scope of what is happening in our world. It was a source of frustration for Ryan - and one that I have hoped to share with the White House Communications Association (WHCA) leaders to evoke change. Our military leaders owe their troops better than this type of environment. It was while in DC, dealing with these frustrations, that I first saw Ryan struggle with life and struggle to make sense of the situations life had put him in, comparing both his time and duties in the Middle East with his time and duties then in Washington DC. In hindsight, it was really a mental struggle that plagued Ryan more than any of us ever knew.
So as I sat watching election night unfold, my mind went back to Ryan's conversations about WHCA and what seems to me to be such useless stresses that he was put through - and it made me very emotional. But I also was watching the familiar sights of one of my "homes" (each place we were stationed became a home to us) and I missed DC at the same time. That city is full of so many extremes for me - extreme sorrow, extreme joy. But it boils down to the fact that I miss Ryan and I can not look at that city without a flood of sorrow and a flood of happy, joyous memories of our time there too. Outside of work, Ryan loved exploring the city and we had SO much fun together there, the four of us, on his days off. Ryan told his mental health provider (she shared this with me a few months ago) there that his best days were the days the four of us set off on an adventure downtown and his worst days were the ones he was traveling with WHCA - such highs and such lows - just so many emotions.
motorcade vehicle |
this is Charlie's Spider-Man & Kate's Blue Monkey sitting in front of the Remington |
pic Ryan took of the Oval Office |
Cherry Blossom Festival |
annual Egg Roll |
at a White House event together |
White House trick-or-treating |
had to end with a joke... |
election night
Charlie spent election night with CNN, his electoral college maps, and a calculator - watching the predictions and results come in. He is not into politics and actually did not favor either candidate running, but he likes numbers. And he is intrigued by the process of how our nation elects its leader. It was fun to watch him engage in the process. He also has a definite opinion on the electoral college and the two-party system. He doesn't think it's a good set-up and claims to want to make his own party one day and "fix" the way things are done. Mostly he just did not like his two choices and was quite upset that he was "forced" to watch it come down to a choice between the two. But he enjoyed tracking the poll numbers and counting down the race to see who reached 270 votes first.
advice
This was shared with me a few months ago, and then again this week. I love when others share little bits of encouragement, verses, or prayers with me. This is an older man's description of grief and it is so accurate, what a great response.
'My friend just died. I don't know what to do.'
One man on Reddit responded with a life lesson we all need to hear.
Alright, here goes. I’m old. What that means is that I’ve survived (so far) and a lot of people I’ve known and loved did not. I’ve lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can’t imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here’s my two cents.
I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don’t want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don’t want it to “not matter”. I don’t want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it.
Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can’t see. I'm
As for grief, you’ll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you’re drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it’s some physical thing. Maybe it’s a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it’s a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.
In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don’t even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you’ll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out.But in between, you can breathe, you can function.
You never know what’s going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything…and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.
Somewhere down the line, and it’s different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O’Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you’ll come out.
Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don’t really want them to. But you learn that you’ll survive them. And other waves will come. And you’ll survive them too. If you’re lucky, you’ll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.
Original source: https://www.good.is/articles/best-comment-everyone
when I'm gone
This music video: When I'm Gone, is a precious song written by a wife to her husband before she died of cancer. It made me cry, but I love it. It's worth listening to.
I love when others share things like this with me for two reasons. One, because it reminds me that I am not the only one dealing with grief in this world - the grief journey can feel very isolating at times but it helps to know others have walked this road and are "okay." And second, because it's a way to let my emotions and tears out in a safe place (like at home and not in the middle of a store!). I mean, the tears of grief need frequent release, it is a healthy process and avoids bitterness or anger building up. So please know it's okay to share "sad"'songs or memories or stories with me. It's okay to speak Ryan's name to me. It is not going to remind me of something sad because, trust me, I haven't forgotten. It may make me cry, but know I welcome the tears and treasure sweet memories. I embrace the moving forward. I am not moving on (that implies leaving something behind & I'm not) but I am moving forward (bringing Ryan with me), a process somehow full of sorrow and joy all at once.
And music can be such a powerful source of evoking emotion, memory, sorrow, joy, and healing. In his letter to me, Ryan asked me to listen to a song about how he felt about me. He wanted me to know without a doubt that I was loved. I listen to the song he mentioned and cry over it often. I am choosing not to share that song here on this blog, because it's something I store away in my heart and for some reason it seems less personal to me to put it out there for "everyone" to have a piece of too. But if you would like to know the song, message me personally and I will share it.
Here are the lyrics to 'When I'm Gone':
I love when others share things like this with me for two reasons. One, because it reminds me that I am not the only one dealing with grief in this world - the grief journey can feel very isolating at times but it helps to know others have walked this road and are "okay." And second, because it's a way to let my emotions and tears out in a safe place (like at home and not in the middle of a store!). I mean, the tears of grief need frequent release, it is a healthy process and avoids bitterness or anger building up. So please know it's okay to share "sad"'songs or memories or stories with me. It's okay to speak Ryan's name to me. It is not going to remind me of something sad because, trust me, I haven't forgotten. It may make me cry, but know I welcome the tears and treasure sweet memories. I embrace the moving forward. I am not moving on (that implies leaving something behind & I'm not) but I am moving forward (bringing Ryan with me), a process somehow full of sorrow and joy all at once.
And music can be such a powerful source of evoking emotion, memory, sorrow, joy, and healing. In his letter to me, Ryan asked me to listen to a song about how he felt about me. He wanted me to know without a doubt that I was loved. I listen to the song he mentioned and cry over it often. I am choosing not to share that song here on this blog, because it's something I store away in my heart and for some reason it seems less personal to me to put it out there for "everyone" to have a piece of too. But if you would like to know the song, message me personally and I will share it.
Here are the lyrics to 'When I'm Gone':
A bright sunrise will contradict the heavy fault that weighs you down,
In spite of all the funeral songs the birds will make their joyful sounds,
You wonder why the earth still moves, you wonder how you'll carryon,
But you'll be okay on that first day when I'm gone.
Dusk will come with fireflies and whippoorwill and crickets call,
And every star will take its place and silvery gown and purple shawl,
You'll lie down in our big bed, dread the dark and dread the dawn,
But you'll be alright on that first night when I'm gone.
You will reach for me in vain
You'll be whispering my name,
As if sorrow were your friend
And this world so alien.
But life will call with daffodils and morning glorious blue skies,
You'll think of me some memory and softly smile to your surprise,
And even though you love me still you will know where you belong,
Just give it time we'll both be fine when I'm gone.
Friday, November 4, 2016
Christmas: A Reason for Hope
It is November now and the holiday "season" is just about upon us. I will admit I have been full of anxiety over how this year will go. Will I be overcome by waves of grief? Will memories from these precious and tender times be harder to deal with than the routine, day-to-day ones? I am not sure yet. I know in years past I often found myself complaining about the hectic nature of the holidays. So many events (children's recitals and plays), countless gifts to buy, social activities to attend, cookies to bake, etc. But this year I wrestle with my still-tender grief during the holiday season and, goodness, how I would gladly take back all those busy times I complained about! Holidays are about traditions and I think it may be a constant reminder that Ryan is not with me to do our traditions together anymore. And with the holiday season lasting well over a month, I have a lot of fear and anxiety that the pain may seem to drag out forever.
But I plan to have a plan. When the pain or anxiety seems overwhelming, I plan to focus on the true meaning of Christmas. And I do not mean some cliché statement, but a deep, in depth look at Christmas itself. Christmas is in fact a celebration that can actually be an overwhelming source of God's comfort to us. This is because Christmas leads directly to hope and healing. You see, the reason Jesus came to earth - was born in a manger that starlit night - was to purposefully end our suffering. God saw all the problems in this world and by sending His son, Jesus, He promised to lovingly fix them. It is a gift. This promise is for my problems, your problems, all the world's problems - yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Let that really sink in for a minute - God sent that newborn babe to be born in a manager with the express purpose of carrying out His plan to end our suffering.
So at Christmas, we celebrate Christ’s entrance into the world as a promise and a gift for us. “I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘… 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!’” (Rev. 21:3–5) Christmas is that promise being made flesh, that there will be no more disease, no more tragedy, no more suffering, no more grief - there will be no more death. And that is the reason for hope and celebration we must all cling to this Christmas, especially for those suffering through grief.
So as we celebrate the gift of Jesus, I pray that in my heart and yours, the meaning of Christmas is not just some cliché statement or a carol that rolls off the tongue. I pray that this year we all take time to really feel what it means to be the recipient of God’s loving plan to end our suffering and save us from a broken world. That is true comfort. I know as I feel sad, overwhelmed, or consumed with my grief, I am going to cling to that reminder that the baby Jesus came to heal my heart, and this world. And I am thankful that He has already healed my Ryan's tender heart. What a comfort! Dare I say, even a joy? So as I continue to wade through this broken world, I will celebrate the holidays, one day at a time, clinging to and knowing the promise of that tear-free reality that Jesus will one day unveil to me. And praising my God that my Ryan is already experiencing that comfort and joy and release from this world's suffering this year, his first year celebrating Christmas in heaven with Jesus Himself.
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." (Phil. 4:6–7)
But I plan to have a plan. When the pain or anxiety seems overwhelming, I plan to focus on the true meaning of Christmas. And I do not mean some cliché statement, but a deep, in depth look at Christmas itself. Christmas is in fact a celebration that can actually be an overwhelming source of God's comfort to us. This is because Christmas leads directly to hope and healing. You see, the reason Jesus came to earth - was born in a manger that starlit night - was to purposefully end our suffering. God saw all the problems in this world and by sending His son, Jesus, He promised to lovingly fix them. It is a gift. This promise is for my problems, your problems, all the world's problems - yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Let that really sink in for a minute - God sent that newborn babe to be born in a manager with the express purpose of carrying out His plan to end our suffering.
So at Christmas, we celebrate Christ’s entrance into the world as a promise and a gift for us. “I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘… 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!’” (Rev. 21:3–5) Christmas is that promise being made flesh, that there will be no more disease, no more tragedy, no more suffering, no more grief - there will be no more death. And that is the reason for hope and celebration we must all cling to this Christmas, especially for those suffering through grief.
So as we celebrate the gift of Jesus, I pray that in my heart and yours, the meaning of Christmas is not just some cliché statement or a carol that rolls off the tongue. I pray that this year we all take time to really feel what it means to be the recipient of God’s loving plan to end our suffering and save us from a broken world. That is true comfort. I know as I feel sad, overwhelmed, or consumed with my grief, I am going to cling to that reminder that the baby Jesus came to heal my heart, and this world. And I am thankful that He has already healed my Ryan's tender heart. What a comfort! Dare I say, even a joy? So as I continue to wade through this broken world, I will celebrate the holidays, one day at a time, clinging to and knowing the promise of that tear-free reality that Jesus will one day unveil to me. And praising my God that my Ryan is already experiencing that comfort and joy and release from this world's suffering this year, his first year celebrating Christmas in heaven with Jesus Himself.
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." (Phil. 4:6–7)
He leadeth me: O blessed thought!
Read this hymn last night and loved it:
He leadeth me: O blessed thought!
by Joseph H. Gilmore, 1834-1918
The United Methodist Hymnal Number 128
He leadeth me: O blessed thought!
O words with heavenly comfort fraught!
Whate'er I do, where'er I be,
still 'tis God's hand that leadeth me.
He leadeth me, he leadeth me,
by his own hand he leadeth me;
his faithful follower I would be,
for by his hand he leadeth me.
Sometimes mid scenes of deepest gloom,
sometimes where Eden's bowers bloom,
by waters still, o'er troubled sea,
still 'tis his hand that leadeth me.
He leadeth me, he leadeth me,
by his own hand he leadeth me;
his faithful follower I would be,
for by his hand he leadeth me.
Lord, I would place my hand in thine,
nor ever murmur nor repine;
content, whatever lot I see,
since 'tis my God that leadeth me.
He leadeth me, he leadeth me,
by his own hand he leadeth me;
his faithful follower I would be,
for by his hand he leadeth me.
And when my task on earth is done,
when by thy grace the victory's won,
e'en death's cold wave I will not flee,
since God through Jordan leadeth me.
He leadeth me, he leadeth me,
by his own hand he leadeth me;
his faithful follower I would be,
for by his hand he leadeth me.
He leadeth me: O blessed thought!
by Joseph H. Gilmore, 1834-1918
The United Methodist Hymnal Number 128
He leadeth me: O blessed thought!
O words with heavenly comfort fraught!
Whate'er I do, where'er I be,
still 'tis God's hand that leadeth me.
He leadeth me, he leadeth me,
by his own hand he leadeth me;
his faithful follower I would be,
for by his hand he leadeth me.
Sometimes mid scenes of deepest gloom,
sometimes where Eden's bowers bloom,
by waters still, o'er troubled sea,
still 'tis his hand that leadeth me.
He leadeth me, he leadeth me,
by his own hand he leadeth me;
his faithful follower I would be,
for by his hand he leadeth me.
Lord, I would place my hand in thine,
nor ever murmur nor repine;
content, whatever lot I see,
since 'tis my God that leadeth me.
He leadeth me, he leadeth me,
by his own hand he leadeth me;
his faithful follower I would be,
for by his hand he leadeth me.
And when my task on earth is done,
when by thy grace the victory's won,
e'en death's cold wave I will not flee,
since God through Jordan leadeth me.
He leadeth me, he leadeth me,
by his own hand he leadeth me;
his faithful follower I would be,
for by his hand he leadeth me.