The words fall so glibly off my tongue — Merry Christmas. To my coworkers. To the lady who checked me out at the store. Sometimes, it’s even a courteous send-off in a work e-mail. I really do mean it. I don’t mean it to hurt.
Sometimes it does.
Elvis Presley first sang the song we hear this time of year — “I’ll have a blue Christmas without you. I’ll be so blue just thinking about you. Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree. Won’t be the same, dear, if you’re not here with me.” It’s just a song, right?
St. Augustine by-the-Sea Episcopal Church held its Blue Christmas service last week. The church has held the service for over a decade to recognize that Christmas is not easy for many people and to provide support and comfort.
When I worked in the marketing department of a large hospital, I wrote articles on Holiday blues for our community magazine. I cited research and quoted experts from the hospital’s behavioral medicine services. However, there was only one moment in my young life that equipped me to understand my writing.
It was Christmas only a handful of years before writing those articles. My brother, Jeff, had died in an October car accident. We tried. We really did. We bought gifts. We hoped Christmas would be normal. The three Yeagley boys – minus our brother Jeff — began to decorate the Christmas tree. The going was rough. Tempers flared. And, like our lives, someone knocked the tree over.
Christmas was not merry in our home that day.
Perhaps you can relate.
As I sit looking at my iMac screen, I’m thinking of life lessons that beg to differ with the phrase Merry Christmas. My father’s death. My wife’s cancer. The heart attack death of a childhood friend. An elementary school classmate suffered a life-threatening stroke just a few days ago. And for those in my small corner of the world — we face Christmas without two dear friends.
I can’t begin to imagine the stories you could write. The pains and concerns that burden you this Christmas. Mothers, fathers, wives, children, aunts, uncles, and friends who have died. Families broken. Children estranged. Relationships shattered.
Into this kind of brokenness, Baby Jesus came. But listen to these words . . .
“He is despised and rejected by men, a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. And we hid, as it were our faces from Him; He was despised, and we did not esteem Him. Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.” Isaiah 53:3-4 NKJV
So whatever tarnishes the merry in your Christmas this year — the Babe of Bethlehem understands. He didn’t come to give you a Merry Christmas. He has a better plan.
One of my favorite characters in the “Christmas” story is Simeon. A good man. A patient man. The Holy Spirit told him he would see the “Consolation of Israel” before he died. I wonder if he ever doubted. Were there difficult days while he waited and watched? But when the Promise Maker told him, “Today is the day,” Simeon made sure he was in the temple early!
Just imagine the ecstasy of holding the Child Jesus as he said, “Lord, now You are letting Your servant depart in peace, according to Your word; for my eyes have seen Your salvation which You have prepared before the face of all peoples, a light to bring revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of Your people Israel.” Luke 2:29-32 NKJV
A promise kept to Simeon. Here’s a promise for you, friend.
“Men of Galilee, why do you stand gazing up into heaven? This same Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will so come in like manner as you saw Him go into Heaven.” Acts 1:11 NKJV
The God who knows your pain this Christmas has made you a promise. My years on this earth have taught me that He is a Promise Keeper.
One last story.
Just a handful of days before my dad’s death, my granddaughters Emmaline and Harper were at my folk’s house while their dad spread landscaping mulch. Harper decided to go outside and help Andrew. For her efforts, my dad paid Harper a few quarters. That caught Emmaline’s attention. To ease her financial disappointment, my dad promised Emmaline that she could dust the books in his library the next time she came over — for pay.
Here’s the not-so-merry part.
My dad died before Emmaline could dust his books. Knowing her heartbreak, my mom assured her that Grandpa’s dust-for-pay offer was still good. She solemnly carried out the job her Grandpa had given her.
Here comes the promise.
With her heart still broken from her Grandpa’s death, Emmaline confidently told her mom, “When I get to Heaven, I’m going to tell Grandpa that I dusted his books.” A not-so-merry moment in a young girl’s life bolstered by a promise that she would see her Grandpa again.
If your Christmas isn’t merry this year — or perhaps every year — take heart. God understands. His only begotten Son — that Babe in a manger — felt your pain. The Bible promises (Romans 8:34) that Jesus died, rose again, returned to Heaven, and is now whispering in the right ear of His Father for you. He’s interceding for you.
This Christmas, allow me to expand the Promise of Hebrews 4:16, which says, “Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of Grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”
I can hear Jesus whispering in His Father’s ear, “Some of Our kids are struggling right now. They’ve heard the words ‘Merry Christmas” more than their hearts can handle. Please rush Heavenly resources their way. Keep their hearts tuned to Our Promise.”
“And one more thing,” Jesus adds, “I miss our children, Father. Can I bring them Home soon?”