Holidays can be difficult to navigate. They can be difficult
because we have had to separate ourselves from families that were abusive and they
tend to surface grief of what was longed for but never fulfilled. It can be
because the anxiety that arises with holiday preparations gets coupled with
dread of the conflicts that often ignite as our extended families rub shoulders
with its history and the dysfunction that arises as we push each other's
buttons. It can be because tongues are loosed when alcohol flows and cutting
words get said that pierce hearts to the core. It can be because of grief
we feel over the loss of loved ones who made holidays special--the child, the
soldier, the mom, the dad, the grandparents, or the friend gone too soon. It
can be because of grief due to unfulfilled dreams being exposed by being around
those whose dreams were fulfilled--dreams of a baby longed for but never had,
dreams of a specific job that went to someone else, dreams of a spouse that
hasn't materialized or the one who walked out, or the dream house we can't
afford due to economy or mounting medical bills. It can be because of illness
that can't be healed and pain that makes it hard to be around people we don't
want to burden. It can be because of mental illness and the unpredictability of
another's actions or even our own depression that is a fog crowding out joy. It
can be because of eating disorders that trigger anxiety as holidays are planned
around food. It can be because of the fear of giving presents that don't please
or because we fear we can't react to a gift the way others need us to. And for
some it can be the pressure family puts on us do away with boundaries we put in
place to protect our families and ourselves.
So, how do we navigate the holidays? First, we begin by going into
the season with our eyes wide open. There are no perfect families and their
will never be a perfect Christmas. We will enjoy Christmas more when we let go
of expectations and the made-up families that live in our minds, accepting our
families as they are. We can commit to treating others with respect and
practicing good self-care by getting plenty of rest, drinking water, eating somewhat
healthy, and using our voice to request what we desire and what we need. We can
refuse to take every word, action, or attitude personally because those things
are about others' hearts not ours. We can take quiet moments alone to breathe,
grieve, or regroup as we needed. We can give thanks for the good moments and
learn from the bad, knowing that one doesn't cancel the other out. We can make
sure we extend grace to others as well as ourselves. We can own our mistakes,
apologizing and making amends when needed. We can keep short accounts and
forgive quickly. Us overwhelmed introverts can refuse to compare ourselves to
extroverts and focus on one person at a time and have meaningful conversations,
maybe looking for the one who looks as lost as we feel.
Second, we can remember we have a Savior who cares and wants us to
take our grief, our fear, our hurt, and our dreams to Him. If anyone
understands dysfunctional families He does. Just look at the people who were in
His family line. Abraham who was commended for his faith lied about Sarah being
his wife. Jacob weaved a mighty mess with his wives and concubines and the
favoritism he showed one son over eleven others. Naomi--she became so bitter
after the loss of her husband that she changed her name to Mara. David, the man
after God's own heart messed up his family by abusing Bathsheba and murdering
her husband. He ended up with a son who raped his daughter and chose to do
nothing about it. Every family in his family line had its sin, its secrets, and
its dysfunction. So, I believe He gets ours. This was proved by the way He
treated those around Him. He was full of compassion for the woman caught in
adultery, who was thrust at his feet without her partner. He was full of
compassion for the woman at the well who had been dragged to the center of town
five times and declared an unfit wife. He was full of compassion for the ill,
the blind, the deaf, and the crippled. He fed both those who were physically
hungry and those who were spiritually hungry. He allowed Mary and Martha to
vent their grief and stood at the grave of Lazarus and wept with them before He
called him out. Jesus cares. Jesus understands.
Third, we can go into the holidays fully confident we have
been given a new Heritage through Christ. The pain of our past, the dysfunction
of our families, the failure of our Christmases to be perfect don't define us.
Jesus, His love and His sacrifice, do. We are called beloved, chosen, blessed,
forgiven, children, and friends. As I reflect on Christmases past, I think one
of my most pleasant Christmases was when my children were teenagers. They got
up early as they always had and then after they opened gifts they all fell
asleep as they waited for Christmas dinner to be cooked. After I got the turkey
on, I looked around at my sleeping teens and picked up my Bible and read the
Christmas story again, feeling overwhelmed by His love and felt a heart
connection with Him that gave me such peace. I felt a sense of belonging and realized
that because of Jesus I was truly home for Christmas. That sweet moment
prepared me for the losses of my parents and my kids leaving the nest who
can't always make it home. It also fulfilled one of my deepest longings--to
feel at home somewhere--the somewhere just happened to be a Someone and that
Someone is Jesus.
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