It's that time of year when business owners use every emotional means possible to separate us from our money. One commercial in particular pulls tears from my eyes every time. A family gathers around a piano and begins to sing, “Oh Holy Night.” Unbeknownst to them, their soldier son is making his way home on Christmas Eve. Snow is falling; the fire crackles in the fireplace. The soldier slips into the home and adds his voice to the climax of the carol, “Fall on your knees…” Even while I'm writing this my eyes are tearing.

Sadly, such warm family scenes remind brokenhearted people of the emptiness and loss in their own lives. How my wife and I wish our son, Mark, was making his way home to surprise us on Christmas Eve. That will never happen on this earth because Mark died in a car accident over twelve years ago.

Those of you who share such sorrow, whether over the death of a child, a family member, friend, a prodigal child, a broken relationship or a broken body - you know how the holidays sharpen grief. Newly grieved people often ask us how to get through the holidays - if only we could skip over to January. In her book, Treasures in Darkness, A Grieving Mother Shares Her Heart, my wife, Sharon, describes how we faced this painful time and asked God to show us that the story of Christmas can actually become a source of comfort.

In the Bleak Midwinter

Holidays sharpen grief. Celebrating such a treasured family holiday was on our minds even on that terrible July night when we lost Mark. On our way home from the hospital, Chuck grabbed my hand and barely whispered, “Christmas, how can we ever celebrate Christmas?” I had no answer.

Christmas had always been my favorite time of year. We didn't buy many toys for our children throughout the year; that was reserved for Christmas. What great fun we always had, planning and preparing, watching for sales, loving the adrenalin of the chase and the victory of finding just the right gift at just the right price. When Mark and Daniel had wanted the most popular toy, we had done everything we could to find it. We had perpetuated our childhood family traditions; family and friends always joined us for a Christmas Eve buffet and then attended the church communion service. I always loved the candlelight service, the music, the family feeling, the preaching, the security of old family traditions. Afterwards, our immediate family had gathered at our home for the kids to exchange gifts and enjoy the euphoria of Christmas. On the night of Mark's death, I concluded I would never experience such joy again.

…..I searched the Scriptures for direction on how to face this first Christmas as an incomplete family. Someone had told us that we should prepare for holidays, anniversaries, and birthdays by changing our traditions. The second half of the book of Isaiah seemed to affirm that suggestion, and I asked God for specific ways to help my family honor Christ's birth in the context of deep grief. In my journal I wrote out passages from Isaiah as God's personal Christmas card to me and to remind me of His instructions:

Content provided by: Oneplace.com