"It’s okay if you hate the
holidays. I won’t tell you otherwise.
It’s okay if you’re dreading
time with family because of deep wounds or toxic relationships.
It’s okay if you can’t bear the
thought of not seeing the loved one you lost so recently.
Or if your heart breaks as you
realize another year has gone by and you’re still single.
Or still childless.
Or still sick.
My dear friend, I’m so sorry
this year is hard. I hate the way your chest threatens to crack open with the
bursting pain. I would change it if I could soothe the ache of unfulfilled
dreams, deep loss, or dashed hopes.
I’ve walked the cold road from
November to January, wishing the season was over. I’ve struggled under
depression and financial strain and crushing sorrow. Over the years, I’ve
discovered a few ways to lighten the load, so I wanted to share them with you."
This blog is borrowed from Sarah (address below), and I thought that it is relevant to many these days. Read on...
Borrow somebody’s kid
"One dark year, I was dreading
the holidays and everything that came with them: the expectations, the images
of family togetherness, the stereotypical “most wonderful time of the year.” I
really wanted to enjoy the season, but I didn’t think I could.
So I borrowed my friend’s
4-year-old daughter, bought a tiny Christmas tree for my tiny apartment, and
put on Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. We drank hot chocolate, decorated
the tree, and ate candy canes. (Then I sent the sugared-up little girl home to
her mama. You’re welcome).
I didn’t realize how much joy
it would bring to see the holidays from a child’s perspective. Even as I
struggled, laughing with a kid made it possible to enjoy the season in a new
way.
Create new traditions
After that first year that I
had my friend’s daughter come over to help me decorate, it became a tradition.
I would have my friend’s kids over to decorate Easter eggs or bake cookies or
whatever.
Eventually, it was replaced
with other new traditions. My roommate and I would have parties at our house
around the holidays. There was our annual Fall Feast (basically Friendsgiving)
and Winter Wonder Day, when we would go get our Christmas trees, watch cheesy
Hallmark movies, and decorate together.
It sounds simple and fun,
without any deeper motive. But, in our group of friends, we each lived with
different aches, unfulfilled hopes, and loneliness. Our fun little traditions
made each of us feel more connected, seen, and known in a season that can
easily highlight what we didn’t have.
Honor those you’ve lost
Grief has a funny way of
crashing over us and turning sweetness into sorrow. If you’re experiencing the
year of painful “firsts” without your loved one, don’t try to carry on like
nothing has changed. The reality is that everything will seem different.
That’s okay.
Instead, bring your loved one
into the celebration, perhaps in a way that would have been meaningful to them.
If they loved family dinner more than anything, maybe have a photo of them on
the table and share stories. If volunteering was important, make some time or
set aside some funds for their favorite charity. Hang a special ornament on the
Christmas tree, play their favorite song, or light a candle in their honor.
Have an escape route (or know where your “afterparty” is)
When I worked with young women who
had experienced severe trauma, they often went home to toxic situations during
the holidays. As they fought to find healing, they worried going home would
derail their hard work.
My best piece of advice was to
always have an “afterparty:” somewhere to go when things got too hard with
family or they needed a break. If things tended to get difficult in the
evening, plan on leaving before then to hang out with an old friend, catch a
movie, or join another holiday dinner.
Even if your family is healthy
and amazing, we sometimes need an escape route when holidays are hard. Plan an
evening walk, an early bedtime for the kids, or a quiet drive to look at lights
in the city.
You might need a mid-day break,
so volunteer to run to the store or do a solo project. Whether you need a quiet
moment to remember someone you lost this year, or a nap because you’re
struggling with serious illness, take the breaks you need.
Schedule what you need
Build time in your schedule to
breathe or grieve. Schedule a low-key day, put naps on the calendar, or plan to
have someone watch the kids so you can relax.
Block out times on the calendar
to be home, to cook for yourself, or to work out. Sometimes self-care means
bubble baths, but sometimes it means caring for your body like you would for a
child: healthy food, good sleep, and time to play/exercise. Whatever you need,
make sure to schedule and prioritize it so it doesn’t get lost in the busyness
of the holidays.
Say no
This is SO important. You
probably don’t have to cook everything. You also don’t have to bake 43 dozen
cookies for church. Or show up to fourteen parties between now and January.
There are so many expectations
around the holidays, but I’ve learned I get to decide what feels right to me.
For example, I like to make gifts for people, but I can’t manage it for
everyone I’d like to. So sometimes I buy something instead. Sometimes, if money
is tight, there may not be gifts.
There have been years I haven’t
traveled, haven’t decorated, or haven’t made a thing.
When the holidays are
especially tough, it’s important to say no to what is too difficult or too
triggering. While others may expect something, if the stress is going to give
you a panic attack or if you’re going to be crushed under the weight of grief,
it’s okay to say no.
Savor what you can
Find what gives you joy, is
refreshing, or brings good memories. If something is enjoyable in the moment,
just enjoy it. Try to pay attention to how you feel, the same way you savor a
favorite food.
This isn’t about denying the
ache or pretending to feel better than you really do. This is about taking it
moment-by-moment and, when your heart feels happy or full, allowing yourself to
feel it.
Don’t “choose joy” – cultivate it
It’s common in Christian
circles to hear we just need to “choose joy” when we’re struggling. This can be
compounded around the holidays when we’re supposed to celebrate gratitude and
the coming of Christ.
But for many of us, it’s not possible
to simply decide how we’re going to feel. And it’s not healthy to deny the very
pain and humanity that Jesus came to join us in.
Although we can’t “choose joy,”
we can cultivate joy. We can learn to find it hidden in the messy and
the mundane, in the quiet moments with loved ones and even on our darkest days."
May you find hidden joys, small ones, as you persevere through the holidays. My reaction to it
is to agree whole-heartedly, you can choose any one or two of these suggestions
and feel better about it. You might surprise yourself!
"A person's ability to endure
is based on their ability to look beyond the physical to the spiritual, and
beyond the visible to the invisible..." J. MacArthur
II Cor. 4:16-18 "Therefore we do not lose heart, but
though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by
day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of
glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at thing that are seen, but
at things that are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but
the things which are not seen are eternal."
