When the Holidays are Hard

It’s that time of year again. A season filled with parties and twinkling lights and gift giving. A time of concerts and plays and cookie exchanges. A time of fa-la-la-la-la and good cheer. Over these next few weeks, people who would ordinarily not make eye contact with strangers, will wish every passing person a “Merry Christmas.” We’ll mail out dozens of annual photo cards with smiling faces and belt out our favorite version of All I Want for Christmas.

In the midst of all this merriment are those for whom the Christmas season is not filled with cheer. For some, the holidays are downright hard and a month long season of festivity feels like an eternity. This is true for the lonely—those whose family live far away or who don’t have a place to go for Christmas. It’s true for those who’ve just endured a painful loss and can’t imagine Christmas dinner without their loved one seated at the table. The holidays are also hard for those who can’t make ends meet and can’t bear to show up at the annual office party empty-handed.

On the outside it may seem like everyone is holly and jolly, but the truth is, the holidays are hard for many.

Might the gospel have something to say to those who are hurting this holiday season? After all, isn’t that what Christmas is about? Isn’t it a celebration of the Light of the World cutting into the darkness of fallen humanity? Isn’t it about peace consuming the chaos? Isn’t it about hope for the hopeless?

While we tend to soften the harsh edges of the Christmas story, the incarnation is filled with hard circumstances. A poor teen girl learns she is to bear the Messiah by a miraculous conception and her fiancé nearly breaks things off, until an angel intervenes. The young couple travel to Bethlehem for a mandatory census just as she is about to give birth and can’t find a place to stay. With no other option, she delivers her baby among the animals in a stable. God incarnate leaves the glorious throne room of heaven, takes on human flesh, and enters a place filled with the smells of hay and the sounds of donkeys and sheep. Before long, they have to flee to Egypt because a mad-man wants the promised child dead. The sounds of sorrow echo throughout Israel as every child two and under is killed in the hopes of finding and ending the life of the One who would deliver his people.

The prophet Isaiah describes the life of this God-man, one filled with sorrow and suffering:

“For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed” (Is. 53: 2-5).

This means we have a Savior who knows and understands all our sorrows for he is the Man of Sorrows. He doesn’t just know about it; he came to bear all that we carry—all the loneliness, grief, and painful memories. The fears of not having enough. The shame of what we’ve done and what’s been done to us. And above all, he came to take away the guilt of all our sin. Jesus Christ lived the life we could not live and died the death we deserved. He was pierced, crushed, chastised, and wounded for us.

The gospel tells us that our Savior came for all those reasons that make the holiday season so hard for us. He came to bring peace and healing, redemption and hope. This means that in the midst of all that is hard, we have joy in Jesus Christ. He is our comfort in a world filled with sorrow. “…his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Is. 9:6).

When everyone around us is filled with good cheer and it’s all we can do to keep the tears at bay, the very One whom we celebrate knows each of those tears. He knows what it is to grieve, to endure temptation, to face poverty, to experience rejection. “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Heb. 4:15). Jesus Christ is Immanuel, God with us, which means he is present with us in all our trials and troubles. He is present with us during this holiday season. We can cry out to him and voice all those things we can’t voice anywhere else. He hears and knows and will surround us with his help and grace.

When the holidays are hard this season, let us turn our hearts to the story of the incarnation. Let us remember the story of our Savior who, “though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Phil. 2:6-8). No one understands the depths of our sorrows as the Man of Sorrows himself. And only he has done something about it.

While the Christmas season may be hard, it is not without joy. May our tears mingle with songs of joy as we celebrate the birth of our Savior.

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

He Knows Our Sorrows

Have you ever watched a television series or a movie that was a real tear jerker? Maybe it was something that everyone raved about and then you watch it and afterward felt like you’d experienced emotional whiplash. When that happens to me, I then want to go back to that friend who recommended it and ask, “Why did you do that to me?”

It’s not as though I don’t like tear jerkers; I’m just not always emotionally ready to watch something that will make me cry. I like to be prepared beforehand to know I am going to walk away from a television show or movie feeling emotionally exhausted.

If only we had such a choice in real life. If only we could choose the time and date when we are emotionally prepared to experience something heavy and hard. If only we could push pause on difficult times of life or better, change the channel all together.

We know all too well that real life is not like that. All too often, the sorrows of life come upon us when we least expect it. And there’s no pushing pause or changing the channel. That’s because life in a fallen world is hard. We experience loss and heartache and trial on the regular. Jesus himself said that we would have troubles and sorrows in this world (Jn. 16:33). Peter instructed us to not be surprised by trials when they come (1 Pet. 4:12).

While the hardships of real life are nothing like watching them unfold on a movie screen, we do have a compassionate Savior who knows and understands the sorrows we bear. “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Heb. 4:15). Our Savior knew well the grief and fear, hardship and poverty, rejection and injustice, temptation and loneliness we face in this fallen world (Heb. 2:17).

Jesus Christ was born not in a castle, but in a stable. His parents were not royalty; his father was a poor carpenter. He was rejected by the people of his own hometown. John tells us that Jesus knew grief as he wept at the grave of his friend Lazarus. He was betrayed by Judas, mere hours after he washed his feet. On the night before he was arrested, he cried out to the Father in lament, asking that the cup be taken from him, all the while trusting in his Father’s will. As he anticipated what was to come, his agony was so great, he sweat drops of blood. HIs friends then went on to abandon him at his darkest hour. Upon his arrest, he was mocked, beaten, and crucified for our sins. Isaiah sums up the sufferings of our Savior well: “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed” (Is. 53:4-5).

The fact that our Savior knows what it is to suffer life in a fallen world is important; it reminds us that he was both fully human and divine. In his humanity, he had to experience suffering to become a perfect sacrifice in our place. John Calvin wrote, “Certainly those who imagine that the Son of God was exempt from human passions do not truly and sincerely acknowledge him to be a man.” He also cautioned, “if we are ashamed that Christ should experience fear and sorrow, our redemption will perish and be lost.” The fact that Jesus felt such intense emotions should encourage us in our own sorrows for we have a Savior who understands our pain—so much so, he was willing to bear the weight of sin to set us free.

Friends, we are not alone. We have a Savior who has gone before us. We have a Savior who knows and understands and cares for all our sorrows. The psalmist wrote that God keeps a count of all our tears; he stores them in a bottle; they are recorded in his book (Ps. 56:8).

Our sorrows matter to God.

What then are we to do with our sorrows? We do what Jesus did: we bring them to God in prayer. We lament. We cry out to the God who hears us. “In my distress I called upon the LORD; to my God I cried for help. From his temple he heard my voice, and my cry to him reached his ears” (Ps. 18:6). And he hears us because of Jesus Christ. Through faith in the Son’s work on our behalf, we are brought into the family of God. He are adopted as his children; we belong to him. This means we have full rights and free access to the Father; there are no barriers that keep us from him. “Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Heb. 4:16).

It’s true: real life is nothing like it is in the movies; it’s harder. We can’t walk out when we don’t like a particular scene. We can’t push pause until we are ready to engage. But what’s far better is having a perfect Savior who has gone before us. A Savior who knows our cares. A Savior who has born our sorrows. Let us cry out to the One who hears and cares for all our sorrows.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

God Hears Your Wordless Prayers

I’ve always appreciated the disciples’ request for Jesus to teach them how to pray in Matthew 6. These men grew up hearing prayers in the synagogue. They knew the prayers of Scripture. They even heard Jesus pray. Yet, they wanted to learn how to pray.

I don’t know about you, but I have numerous books on prayer lining my bookshelves. Each one has helped me learn about the heart and purpose of prayer. Some books focus on specific prayers of the Bible, helping me to shape my own. Some provide written prayers I can pray myself. Some give practical tips on prayer, including ways to manage my long list of requests for myself and others.

Yet no matter how skilled we might be in prayer, no matter how well we construct and organize our prayers, no matter the length of our prayers, there are times when we come to the Lord and simply have no words. We stand muted before of the painful sorrows of life. We can barely breathe, much less give voice to how our heart is broken by loss or paralyzed by great fear. Prayer just seems impossible when it feels like we are drowning in despair, fear, pain, sorrow, or shame.

When I am made silent by the circumstances of life, I remember the psalmist’s words: “I am so troubled that I cannot speak” (Ps. 77:4) and realize I am not alone. I read the groans of David and hear them echoed in my own heart, “I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with tears; I drench my couch with my weeping” (Ps. 6:6). And I realize that what God wants most isn’t necessarily a stream of eloquent words, but “a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Ps. 51:17).

That is something I can bring.

I can bring my broken heart.

Just the simple act of coming before the throne of grace reveals the contents of our heart. The Lord sees our humble offering and if all we can muster up is “Help me!” that is enough. For as the Apostle Paul encourages, “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God” (Rom. 8:26-27).

The Puritan preacher, John Bunyan, wrote, “It should comfort your heart if the anguish of your spirit keeps your words few. The Holy Spirit stirs up your heart in groans and sighs so much the more vehement when your mouth is hindered. Though your mouth is hindered, your spirit is not.”

God knows and hears the groans of our heart. When we cry out to him and can hardly string a sentence together, he knows what we long to say. He knows the thoughts and intentions of our heart. He hears beyond the sighs of pain and the tears of brokenness. Even more, he hears the Spirit interceding for us, praying perfect and righteous words on our behalf. The Spirit takes our lisps and stutters and makes them holy.

When the difficulties of life mute us, remember it is not how well we pray, but that we pray. And may it  encourage our heart to know the Spirit never cease to groan to the Father on our behalf.

Father in heaven,

I come before you broken by the hardships of life. I feel the weight of my own sin, the sting of arrows flung at me from others, and the searing pain of loss and heartache. As David wrote, my tears flood my bed day and night. All I can do is cry out to you for help. Hear me, Lord. Help me, Lord. Help me to know you are with me. Carry me through this. Comfort me with your love. In Jesus’s name, amen.

When You Need Hope: A Look at Psalm 119

Before my youngest was born, I bought him a pale blue blanket and had his name stitched on one corner. It was the softest blanket and he quickly attached to it. (Actually, I ended up buying two of them in case we ever lost one. If you are a parent, you know why!). When he was younger, whenever my son was sad or scared, I could find him curled up in his blanket. For the longest time, it went everywhere with us, a comfortable and reliable companion in an often confusing and frightening world.

We all have things we run to for comfort. We all have instinctive, go-to, automatic things we turn to for hope, encouragement, and strength when we are weakened by the cares of this life.  More than likely, it's not a blanket. But it might be food, drink, television, shopping, work, social media, or exercise. It might be a person. It might be an experience. We turn to such things when life is hard in the hopes that it will rescue us, give us strength, or somehow make things better.

Psalm 119

The longest psalm in the book of Psalms is 119. David wrote all 176 verses about God's word. Each verse references God's word in some way, highlighting God's wisdom and truth.

"My soul melts away for sorrow; strengthen me according to your word!" Psalm 119:28

This one little verse has a lot to tell us about strength and where to find it. First, the psalmist is crying out to the Lord, telling him of his sorrow. He turns to the only wise One, the King of the universe, the maker and sustainer of all things. He cries out to God in honesty, voicing the depths of his distress and trouble. 

Secondly, the psalmist asks for help. He asks for strength and seeks it from God in his word. The New Living Translation puts it, "encourage me by your word." The Psalmist is turning to God's word as his source of strength, hope, and encouragement during his time of sorrow. 

And what does the psalmist learn from God's word? Farther down, in verse 50 he wrote, "This is my comfort in my affliction, that your promise gives me life." And further he wrote, "Forever, O LORD, your word is firmly fixed in the heavens. Your faithfulness endures to all generations; you have established the earth, and it stands fast. By your appointment they stand this day, for all things are your servants. If your law had not been my delight, I would have perished in my affliction. I will never forget your precepts, for by them you have given me life." (89-93). God's word gave the psalmist life. 

Turn to God’s Word

When we are in the pit of sorrow, when we are frozen by fear, when we are weakened by the cares of this life, we need to turn to God's word. It is our strength. It's how God communicates with us. Through the Spirit at work in us, he uses his word to change us, correct us, comfort us, guide us, and equip us. 

As the author to the Hebrews wrote, "For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart" (4:12).  Paul wrote, "Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness,that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work" (2 Timothy 3:16-17). In John 17:17, Jesus said that the word sanctifies us. 

On this side of redemptive history, we have the complete word of God. All the promises that the psalmist hoped in have been fulfilled in Christ. Jesus is the Word made flesh. He is wisdom incarnate. He is the Word to whom the written word points. When we turn to God's word for strength, it reveals to us more of Christ, who he is and what he has done. It is in knowing Christ and being known by him that we find the only hope that matters.   

In our fallen nature, when the cares of this life weigh us down, we tend to turn to temporary comforts or solutions for help and strength rather than God. But they all pale in comparison. They fail to deliver or provide any lasting hope. But in reading, studying, and dwelling on God's word we find the Word, Immanuel, and in him is the source of all our hope and strength. 

These days, both of my son’s blankets sit on the shelf in his closet. He no longer needs them. Over time, he’s learned to turn to God when the cares of life overwhelm him, or he comes to my husband and I and asks us to pray for him. May we too cast aside the counterfeits, and turn instead to the real thing, our Savior, Jesus Christ.

“We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure…” (Hebrews 6:19 NIV).

The Master Artist and Your Life's Portrait

My son was working on a drawing project one day, and I walked over to look at his progress. “Hey, Buddy, don’t push down so hard with your pencil. Remember what your teacher told you? You’ll end up with ghost lines.”

He sighed. “I know.” Picking up his eraser, he scratched furiously at the lines. But they were still there. My son learned in art class that when you are drawing in pencil, it is important to sketch lightly because if you need to erase something, you won’t have ghost lines. But if you push down when you draw, no matter how hard you try to erase it, there will be a faint line showing what was once there.

The Lines in Us

My life is filled with ghost lines. Most days, when I glance at the portrait of my life, I don’t notice them. But sometimes I am forced to step in close, like when something triggers a memory. Many of these memories, though redeemed through Christ’s work in my life, still reveal ghost lines scratched onto the canvas of my life. In fact, the closer I look, the more lines I see...to read the rest of this post, visit Desiring God, my writing home for today.

The Joy and Sorrow of Life

There’s a sweet children’s story titled, Because of Winn Dixie. The main character, Opal, has a friendship with the town librarian, Miss Franny. Miss Franny told Opal the story of her great grandfather who fought in the Civil War and returned home to find that everyone in his family had died while he was away in battle. After all the sorrow, he desired something sweet and made candies called Littmus Lozenges into which he poured all his sadness. Miss Franny gave one to Opal to try.

I ate my Littmus Lozenge slow. It tasted good. It tasted like root beer and strawberry and something else I didn't have a name for, something that made me feel kind of sad.

..."There's a secret ingredient in there," Miss Franny said.

"I know it," I told her. "I can taste it. What is it?"

"Sorrow," Miss Franny said. (p.113 and 114).

The Combined Taste of Joy and Sorrow

For believers, the combined taste of joy and sorrow is a familiar one. It’s the taste we live with every day in this fallen world. Even on days where we experience deep joy, there’s always the accompanying flavor of sorrow. And then on those days where we experience profound sorrow, there’s always joy right there in the midst of it.

This taste has nothing to do with candy. Our sorrow comes from an awareness that things are not what they should be. There’s sorrow over the fallenness of this world, it’s depth and breadth. There’s sorrow because we know how things began and what happened to bring us to this place of brokenness. There’s sorrow over how the curse of sin affects the world around us and that of our own hearts. There’s sorrow over how the fall comes to bear in our individual life through conflict, illness, heartache, and loss. There’s sorrow over injustice, tragedy, abuse, and death.

But then there is also joy. Joy because we are in Christ. Joy because we know God and are known by him. Joy because we know that God rules and reigns, no matter what is happening around us. Joy because we know that he is always with us and will never forsake us. Joy because God hears us and is our refuge in our sorrow. Joy because we know that this world is not all there is and that eternity awaits us. And joy because we have the very presence of God living within us.

Gospel Joy

In my book, I talk about how joy is always with us and how it is intertwined with other emotions, particularly sorrow. 

“Even when life is at its hardest, gospel joy is still there. It is always present, like an anchor in the storms of life. It’s what trickles through the cracks of our messy and sin-stained lives. Like a river’s current, it carries us through the challenges and pains of life in this fallen world. This is why fellow believers in Christ whom we know are going through a serious trial in their lives can still express their joy in the Lord. Even though their world is crumbling, even though they might be facing excruciating physical pains, they can still sing a song of praise because they have gospel joy co-mingling with their sorrow and grief. They can sing because Christ has set them free from all captivity, including captivity to their emotions. They aren’t held hostage by their emotions so that even through tears, they can sing of God’s amazing grace.

This gospel joy is why the hymn writer, Horatio Spafford could pen the song ‘It is Well With My Soul’ after losing four of his daughters at sea:

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.
It is well with my soul, It is well, it is well with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet,
though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

Though sorrows, fears, and pains remain in this life and though they will revisit us throughout the course of our lives, we have the constant undercurrent of joy always there with us.” (p.139-140).

As I’ve gotten older, my taste buds have changed. Things I didn’t care to eat when I was younger, I now enjoy. Also as I’ve gotten older, the combined taste of joy and sorrow is more profound. It’s an everyday taste, one that has become part of me. Perhaps this taste has grown with more life experience or the loss of naiveté or a greater and greater awareness of just how fallen the world is. Perhaps it is all of it combined. But each day I have reason both to lament and to hope in Christ.

Our Savior summed it up best, “In this world you will have sorrow, but take heart, I have overcome the world.” As believers, we face the reality that sorrow is real and that we are to expect it in this world. But at the same time, we have hope. Christ has conquered sin and death. We are redeemed. And he is present with us until the end. He is our joy in the midst of all the sorrows and heartaches of life. 

Do you know the combined taste of joy and sorrow?