Joy of Christmas

Like every day I drive to work, I pass by The Spot.  A moment in time so powerful, everything around you sears itself into a memory; it changed everything I knew Christmas to be.  Today I contemplate on that day that changed me.

It was December 2015 and grief hung on all of us like a wet, wool blanket one had just fished out of the river.  Mom had finished her fight against cancer Christmas 2013 and Dad had been killed by a car accident Christmas 2014.  The closer Christmas drew, the greater the anxiety wondering if someone else we love would die.  I did not hold back when talking to God.

"God.  Why?  Why is Christmas now nothing more than grief for us?  

Why do our children not get the happy Christmases we always had as kids?  

God, why now does Christmas have to be about death for us?"

He answered me.  His piercing words filled me and I began to cry.

"Cheri, Christmas has always been about death.  The very reason Jesus was born, was to die. I know of your pain and you now know of Mine."

The moment The Spot seared itself. 

The moment The Spot became my altar.

Despite death, there is to be joy.  The angels declared, "I bring you good tidings of great joy".  How can they proclaim of a great joy when His birth was only to begin His sacrificial death?

Joy is more about peace and comfort than it ever is about laughter and glee.

I think back to that Christmas Eve in ICU.  Dad and his love for Jesus brought joy without him ever using words.  We learned this as one of Dad's nurses watched us.  He didn't believe as we do, still he watched us pray, he watched us cry, he saw others praying over us.  At the end of his shift he told us there was a difference with Dad.  Despite the critical situation, despite the trauma, he had felt the comfort and peace; the joy.  I found out later he had offered to come in on his day off - Christmas Day - to be dad's nurse if the hospital needed it.  The joy of Christmas was reaching through those tightly laced fingers of grief. 

I think on the difficulty he had coming in to work on his next shift and seeing Dad's empty bed.

An empty bed.

An empty tomb.

Both exclaim the joy of Christmas.

If the tears you shed this Christmas taste of the darkness of grief or of the glee of laughter, I pray you feel the comfort and peace God brings.  May you feel His joy.  May you feel the Joy of Christmas.