When the holidays are different

It’s been three and half years since my mother passed. There’s seldom (if ever) a day that goes by that I don’t think of her. But for some reason, Thanksgiving was different this year … it felt different this year … at least for me. Our family did the same thing we always do; we traveled to eastern Tennessee and the bunch of us all squeezed into my dad’s house. We cooked and enjoyed all the traditional Thanksgiving goodies the average American family serves. We always fix a few things, just because those were some of mom’s favorites, or things she insisted were on the table. 

Let me say, not only do I miss her, I sure miss her cooking! One of my most beloved Thanksgiving foods is turkey and dressing (not stuffing). But it is best when it is immersed, like a Baptist baptism, in turkey gravy … smothered, buried and baptized in brown goodness! And although my father is a good cook, no one (and I mean, no one) makes gravy like Memaw. I miss it. And her. 

Whether it was her empty chair, or not seeing her busy in the kitchen, or hearing her sing while she works away; whatever the cause, I missed her more this year than in the years past. Maybe it’s the harsh reality that she’s gone. Like really, gone. And each passing year, and every passing holiday, just solidifies that sad truth. 

In some ways, it’s hard to believe it’s been three years since she went to Heaven. My father says, for him it sometimes feels like it’s been decades … long painful decades since she died. In other ways, he says, the wound still feels fresh, like it happened yesterday. Now, that may not make sense to everyone, but I bet it makes sense to someone reading this. 

The holidays just feel different when death comes and takes part of your heart away. I write this only knowing a fraction of the emotional pain many others have gone through. Losing a parent is no small thing, not at all. However, I cannot (and do not want to) imagine what it would be like to lose your spouse or God-forbid, a child. 

My heart goes out to those like my brother and his former wife who lost their daughter to a senseless tragedy earlier this year. I pastor numerous parents who have buried their children, some recently. And this holiday season is going to be especially hard on them. 

Sadly though, many of you reading this have suffered similar emotional adversities and loss of loved ones. Those who have faced this kind of heartache know that every holiday, (and anniversary or birthday), comes with mixed emotions. Those grieving hearts find comfort when surrounded by family and for the life shared, but also emptiness for the loss endured. Many folks experience thankfulness for the years given, but sad, and perhaps anger even, for the years you “should” have enjoyed. 

I know my dad is thankful for those who are there, but sad for those who aren’t. I’m certain many of you share in those sorrows. Suffice it to say, for many, the Holiday season is hard, really hard. Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Years just aren’t the same without the same loved ones. I know this, but more importantly – God knows this. 

So, to those struggling, I want to offer this word of encouragement; “The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). The LORD is near … in other words, Christian, you are not alone, even if it feels like you are. And if you feel crushed, remember this; so did Jesus. He too felt the weight of human sorrow. 

Remember, the Bible teaches that God the Son became a man and endured the same pains and sorrows we endure that He might empathize with us (Hebrews 4:15). For example, it was Passover, an annual day of celebration, when Jesus was betrayed by one of His followers, thrice denied by another, and abandoned by all. 

During what was supposed to be one of the most festive times of year on the Jewish calendar, our Lord found Himself alone. During their “holiday season,” Christ was disowned by His own people and rejected by His own nation. So yes, I think it’s fair to say Jesus knows our pain and sorrow. He knows heartache, disappointment, loss, and loneliness. He lived and experienced it Himself. 

Let me also encourage you to do this; remember those who are hurting this year and give them some extra attention. Invite that widow (or widower) to your family gathering. Visit an orphanage. Volunteer at a shelter. Go to the nursing home and love on those little old ladies. 

“Pure religion and undefiled,” the Bible declares, “is to visit the fatherless and the widows in their affliction” (James 1:27). So go visit. Pray for those parents who are facing their first Christmas without their child. But do more than pray, put feet to your prayers and spend time with them. 

Then finally, each hard holiday should remind the born-again believer of this wonderful promise; there is coming a day when “God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.” (Revelation 21:4). 

Death makes the holidays look and feel different, but that will not always be the case for the Christian. Sure, I miss my mom more this year, for some reason. 

But I cling to this certainty, by God’s good grace, I will see her again! And that endless eternal “holyday” will be filled with ceaseless delight and endless joy! And although I don’t have any Bible to support this – maybe, just maybe there will be brown gravy in Glory. 

This much I know for sure – Jesus will be there, and that is what will make heaven, heaven!