I wrote this last year but I know a lot of people who have lost loved ones this year and so I’m sharing it again. Because during the holiday season especially, people are fighting battles we know nothing about. And they- more than ever- need grace. ❤️
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This morning started out so wonderfully.
Big snow flakes falling gracefully from the sky.
Toddler eyes, full of wonder, squealing with joy.
Husband and kids around the table,
enjoying Sunday biscuits & gravy
and sparkling juice just for a treat.
Balsam candle burning,
wafting tones of the coming holidays into the air.
Music flowing through a speaker,
the instruments stroking chords of joy in my soul.
I looked around and felt nothing but gratitude.
Even as I reflected upon how different this Thanksgiving was going to look.
As I prepared my heart to receive
and live in the days gratefully,
focused more on what remains
than what has gone away this year.
So much has gone…
2020 has left holes in me
like a Jenga game.
For each block that’s been pulled out,
God has stacked them.
Built me up. Closer to Him.
But the truth remains that the holes are real.
And they leave an emptiness that we seek to fill.
Loved ones missing.
Some by force, some by choice.
Some sitting at the table with Jesus
this Thanksgiving,
and some just distanced like never before.
Traditions broken.
Places closed.
Situations changed.
Feelings raw.
Yet here we are, still standing.
Because that’s all we can do.
Trying not to totally fall apart,
we must choose moment by moment
to carefully steady our spirits
by securing ourselves in gratitude and God’s grace
instead of allowing ourselves to be knocked down.
Sometimes you can-
steady yourself, that is.
Sometimes you can see
the change, the feeling, the loss coming
and you can prepare yourself for it.
But sometimes life, emotions, the tiniest hiccup
they catch you by surprise.
Sometimes you think you’ve come to a place where you’ve settled into your new “configuration.”
Knowing there’s a void that’s not meant to be filled-
the loss of a parent, a spouse, a friend.
Whomever it is that is gone, for you.
{For me, my dad.}
And it’s NOT ok.
But we are, because we have to be.
So here we are…full of holes, aware of them,
but resecured.
But life, especially this year, feels like Jenga, doesn’t it?
The repositioning and pulling out of just one more block makes the weight shift again.
And you feel like you might topple over.
And just the slightest, unintentional bump…
just one more little block being pulled out-
a misunderstanding,
a disapproving or even misread look,
a minor disappointment,
an unexpected change in plans,
another absence around the table,
an illness that saps you of energy for the activities you had been looking forward to,
an unaccounted-for expense that requires
a scaling back of grand intentions-
completely sideswipes you
and you find yourself in tears again.
And then moreso
because this freshest “bump” that sent you over,
probably wasn’t even something big.
Not something you’d normally fall apart over,
if it weren’t for all the other holes.
And the fact that you’re crying makes you madder!
2020, y’all.
It’s been rough.
The enemy has really been doing some pulling.
Sometimes it’s not been felt as mightily.
(Like in Jenga when you pull a loose piece out.)
But sometimes it’s been really difficult.
Impossible-feeling, even.
But still, the enemy is not in charge. God is.
Still God is using even what is being taken from us,
strengthening us to stand taller,
to grow, with Him, around those holes.
Because of them even.
(Just like the Jenga stack can’t get taller without pieces being pulled out.)
Still, he’s there,
constantly restacking,
Re-securing.
Re-connecting us with others
(Like the top layers, the fresh layers, of Jenga where we are placed next to other blocks again.)
Still he’s there,
making beauty from ashes.
Watering His seeds in us with our tears.
Preparing a harvest of His righteousness in us
and through us.
Exchanging our messes for his redeeming grace.
In this season I’d venture to say
there’s not a person who isn’t feeling some “holes”.
So- if I, if they, topple in front of you.
If you are tempted to feel offended
because we react “dramatically”
to the slightest of bumps…
please pause and try not to take it personally.
It’s probably not you.
It’s a lot of things.
We may not even be able to identify what all it is.
We just feel vulnerable.
Like the clay jars that we are.
Full of holes and cracks,
but doing our best to let His light shine through.
Yet fragile, just the same.
We know that he always puts us back together,
but it’s a process.
It doesn’t happen automatically.
It’s an intentional work.
It takes time.
And we need grace.
His, and yours too.
If I fall apart around you this holiday season,
please know it isn’t you.
Please don’t run or judge.
Just remind me that this moment, too, shall pass.
And sit with me, for a moment,
encourage me to get back into God’s presence where he builds me back up.
Help me see myself as whole, through Him,
until I feel it once again.
And I’ll try to do the same for you. ☺️
From Full 