A Holiday Message from a Broken Family

Dear Friends and Strangers,

I don't want to be a downer. Normally, I love the time from Thanksgiving until New Years. I love Christmas music, I love planning out the delicious treats that I am going to make, and finding just the right gifts. I love finding ways to give to others at this time of year-to those who are struggling and might need a little bit extra.

It looks like we will be the ones struggling this year.

Last year at this time, our family was still reeling from the unexpected death of my father. He passed away the day after his birthday of a massive heart attack on the way home from work.

It was tough.

Eleven months passed, and we started the twelfth. As the end of October approached, we held our breaths. All of the birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, vacations, and seasons, had been survived. This was our new normal and we could do this. My brother (the one who had been with my dad when he died) and his wife were expecting a baby any day, surely a sign of better things to come for all of us.

Then, just days before the anniversary of my dad's death, my brother and his wife lost their newborn baby girl. Two weeks later, one of my younger brothers died in a car accident. To say we are devastated doesn't even begin to describe how we feel.

We will never be the same.

Our fractured lives will slowly be put back together, but there have been pieces that are beyond repair. No amount of 'glue' will put things back to the way they were. I did not know that it was possible to feel so broken. It's as if the floor has disappeared from under our feet and we are in a free fall.

Coming from a large family, each of us is processing our grief in different ways. Collectively, we have lost a spouse, father, grandfather, brother, uncle, fiance, niece, daughter, grand daughter, big sister, and cousin-all in just over a year.

Never in my life have I felt so completely broken.

One of my students asked me if our family was cursed. Sometimes, it's tempting to feel that way. Thankfully, I was raised to know the difference between God and Santa. Santa is the one that brings us what we want, then leaves. God is the One who is there with us even when life hands us what we would never want.

As I sit at night, still trying to digest this truth that feels so much like a nightmare, I cling to Jesus. God hears and feels our pain (Psalm 22:24). When Lazarus died, Jesus wept (John 11:35). We just need to look up to him.

Little Man and I have been reading the Chronicles of Narnia books recently. I was surprised that the book would have anything that might help me in my grief, but it did. The lion (Aslan), represents God.

I've had to remind myself that being a Christian doesn't make us exempt from pain and trials. It doesn't make our lives a guaranteed success. The Bible doesn't say, "Follow me and I will make you really successful, wealthy, and make sure you never have tragedy in your life." (Even though sometimes in today's culture it feels like that is what we are being told.)

Our family is not the only broken family working our way through this holiday season. There are other families out there who are facing situations that have broken them as well. Addictions, betrayals, divorce, joblessness, disease, hunger, abuse. We might not be able to see it when we meet them on the street, but they too are feeling the fragility of life. Putting one foot in front of the other. Praying for a dreamless sleep at the end of another tough day.

I still love Christmas. I want my children to enjoy and celebrate the true meaning of this time of year. But in my new brokenness, it will be done in a quieter, gentler way than I've ever celebrated it before. It's the 'holidays.' A time for gathering together and sharing with one another.

As you celebrate with the one's you love, say a prayer for the broken families. And, if you're one of us, know that I will be saying a prayer for all of you as well.

"You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book? " Psalms 56:8

"For he has not despised or abhorred the affliction of the afflicted, and he has not hidden his face from him, but has heard when he cried to him." Psalms 22:24.

"These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace, In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." John 16:33







Click the banner above to vote for Just B. @Top Mommy Blogs! You can vote once a day.

When Words are Not Enough

The past several months have been painful ones for me. Although I am able to put on a happy face and answer "I'm well, and you?" when approached in public, it is harder for me to put on the same facade when I write. Writing has always been the place where I process my life, with all the gritty details.

Sometimes, we find ourselves in situations where words can't express how we are feeling. Where, in fact, words would be a hindrance. When the depth of emotion in the situation, the sorrow, joy, fear, shock, love, excitement... is beyond being able to be expressed with simple words.

This summer has been filled with those moments. I have witnessed and/or experienced emotions that are difficult impossible to put into words and so I have stayed silent. I have cried tears for myself, for people I know well, and for virtual strangers. All of these instances have been a catalyst for me to really examine my own life history.

I once heard someone on a radio program say that, as a Christian, we should never be heard saying "life is hard" because God is with us and therefore, nothing should be hard. I think that's a load of hooey. (Apparently he had never read the book of Job.) Christian or not, life is filled with highs and lows.

Having faith does not make us exempt from pain just as admitting our struggles does not mean we lack faith.

This summer, I have focused on trying to heal some of the painful spots in my heart that I have accumulated over my thirty-nine and a half years. I have spent hours in the night talking with God. I have stood outside drinking in the sweet perfume of twilight and sat with the dog enjoying the stillness of morning. I've stood, eyes closed, while I relished the feeling of a cool breeze on my face and the sounds of my children playing. I have allowed myself to cry the tears that I have kept bottled up for far too long. To grieve fully all of those people, dreams, and relationships that I've lost through the years. I've worked to make peace with those past hurts from people who will never offer an apology, and to forgive myself (my own worst critic) for the mistakes of my past.

I had a wonderful childhood and have a good life. Because of that, I think sometimes it's hard for me to admit that I've ever struggled. Almost as if I'm being ungrateful for what I have, by grieving what I have lost, where I have stumbled.

We don't like pain, so we try to put it behind us as quickly as possible. "Whew, we made it through! Now quick, close that chapter of life and move on to happier times and pretend that it didn't happen."  Failing to finish processing what we have gone through (debriefing, if you will) is generally avoided. Yet, the tough times in our lives are as much a part of who we are as the good times. In fact, I would argue that they have made us who we are today.

I am not one to encourage having a victim mentality, or wallowing in self pity. Tough stuff happens and it changes us.

How we respond is what makes the difference in the end.

Because, even in our brokenness, I believe it's possible to fly.

Praise the Lord!

For it is good to sing praises to our God;

For it is pleasant, and praise is beautiful. 

The Lord builds up Jerusalem; 

He gathers together the outcasts of Israel. 

He heals the brokenhearted 

And binds up their wounds. 

~Psalm 147:1-3

Click the banner above to vote for Just B. @Top Mommy Blogs! You can vote once a day.