My grandfather passed away earlier this year and his absence has left an immense void in our lives. I was at the grocery store the other day and noticed the chocolate covered cherries that we always gave him for Christmas, and I felt that feeling in the pit of my stomach of the overwhelming sadness that he is no longer with us. We and others are painfully aware of the friends and family that have passed away in this last year. Their absence is tangible, maybe even more so than their presence, because of the intense longing for their embrace, laughter, and smile.
A few years ago, at our church’s Christmas Eve service, I was brought to tears as we sang Silent Night. At the conclusion of the service, Rach asked if I was having an allergic reaction due to my red eyes. “No,” I replied (we still laugh about this). Rather I was struck in a profound way as I sang and heard about the beauty and mystery of the Incarnation. God, the very Creator and Sustainer of life, entering our brokenness, desperation, and suffering. God with us, especially when things aren’t “Merry.” Christ who suffered on our behalf, bearing our sins, who died and rose from the dead, in order that we may have a living hope that there is a resolution to the pain and loss we have experienced. Christ who came as an infant, will come again to make all things new. Until then, we have the assurance that he remains with us, especially in the valleys, holding close the broken and weary. It is our prayer that you would know this good news in a tangible way this season. More good news, we have each other. The greatest gift we can offer one another is simply being present in all circumstances.