Advent and Christmas for Those Who Mourn
Looking for the light
By Amanda Opelt
“It’s the most wonderful time of the year.” I think it’s safe to say that at least half of the population find this traditional song mildly annoying. The thought of all those kids jingle belling, parties for hosting, holiday greetings and meetings, and the insistence that you “be of good cheer” all crammed into one irritatingly chipper melody is enough to send some people over the edge.
But in spite of the stress and busyness of the Christmas season, most people look forward to the heart of what the holidays have to offer us: family, friends, food, and warm reflections of happy Christmases past. It’s a joy to watch our children discover the wonders of Christmas and to share that with those we love the most.
But what about those of us who have lost ones we love the most? What about those of us in the wake of death or in the midst of painful estrangement? For the bereaved, the holidays can feel like little more than the twist of the knife, the reminder that the past is gone and your present and future is robbed of the relationships you held most dear. The celebrations, the gift giving, the merriment and making of memories feels empty without the one you lost or are alienated from.
A Season of Waiting
Time and 21st century marketing and materialism have distorted the origins of Advent. Beginning the 4th Sunday before Christmas Day, Advent was originally intended to be a time of reflection, fasting, repentance, and waiting. This was a season characterized by longing—longing for the presence of God in our lives and for the second coming of Christ. It was a season custom made for those who were waiting for relief they could not yet see. It is the season of anticipation, expectation and hope—the kind of hope that is fragile yet stubborn, feeble yet insistent.
Israel waited for her Messiah for centuries. Years and years, decade after decade passed without His appearing. The hope long outlived the generations. And yet they clung to the promise of the One who would someday come and make all things new.
Psalm 130:6 says “I wait for the Lord more than the watchmen wait for morning, more than the watchmen wait for morning.” I picture the weary watchmen peering at the skyline, eyes fixed on the horizon where he knows the sun will rise if only he is patient. Advent is the season of winter solstice, when the shortest day of the year is December 21st. On that day in Boone, North Carolina, the daylight will last only 9 hours and 42 minutes. We long for the warmth of the sun more than ever. Yet it is a long time coming each morning as we rise from our beds to face the days’ work.
Have Faith
What are you waiting for this season? Are you waiting for the sharp pain of grief and loss to lessen enough for you to catch your breath? Are you waiting for an estranged friend or family member to finally pick up the phone and call? Are you waiting on a diagnosis, a treatment plan, a medication or a miracle? Are you waiting for a job, a pregnancy, or a home? Or maybe you are waiting for an answer to a question—about life, about God, about yourself—that you just haven’t found the answer to yet.
If so, this is the season for you. It might not feel like it, but if you can quiet the hustle and bustle enough, you may hear the voice of God speaking to you: “Comfort, comfort my people says your God….Every valley shall be raised up, every mountain and hill made low, and the rugged places a plain.” (Isaiah 40:1-4, NIV) God will make a way for peace, for healing, and eventually for joy again.