What to do When Happy Holidays are Hard

Audio By Carbonatix

Friend. Literally—for—and when—crying out loud…

Take the picture.

Mark the occasion, even when the occasion is grief, loss, or loneliness.
Ask someone to take a picture of you.

When you aren’t looking like you want to, living like you want to, or loving like you want to—take the picture.

When the season is hard, people are missing and loved ones who were… are now no more.
Take the picture anyway.

The Value of the Messy Middle

There is value in seasons of lack, and gaps, and longings.
There is value in visible reminders of soul weariness.

These too are the seasons our Father has ordained for us in His Sovereign Grace.

Some of my favorite pictures are from hospital waiting rooms, gravesides, and other valleys of life. In more than one precious memory, you can see the tension all over my face—the war taking place between faith that wants to remain in the moment and flesh that wants to run from it. 
I even have one from a basement during a tornado, one from a field of debris after a terrible wreck, and one of me holding a child in the NICU—taken just after finding out I would be leaving Earth sooner rather than later.

Treasures. All of them.

Can you imagine how we would treasure a picture of Paul and Silas in prison—bloodied, bruised, and singing their songs?

The Photo Finish at the End

Everyone looks like hell in a marathon.
It is all effort, grit, and labor.

But cherished are the pictures from the finish line, the ones of the empty and poured out finally arriving victorious.
Forgotten are the miles before.

How quickly tears of pain through the trials melt into smiles after mere miles. How quickly perspectives change when you can finally catch your breath.

Run your race.

This may not be the finish line for you—but you made it this far.
You made it to today.

It was hard. I know.
But you’re still with us, and I for one would like to celebrate that fact.

A Nativity Reel

Days won’t always be this hard.

If Christmas tells us anything, it is this:
God’s redeeming love is greater than our brokenness.
His timing is perfect.
Holy things are born in hard places.
And eventually, light breaks through the darkest night.

Don’t fake enthusiasm or pretend perkiness.
You don’t have to be cheesy to say, “Cheese.”

Don’t you wish we had a baby book from Bethlehem? Don’t you know we would study every detail of that blessed night and morn?

Friend, Mary would have looked tired.

Joseph—equal parts in awe of the glory and overwhelmed by reality. Disheveled shepherds standing in for family and friends.

Just as I am

You summoned sufficient courage just by showing up—by waking up.
You’re good, friend.

Hand someone your phone.
Gather those who are—regardless of who they are.
Smile whatever honest smile can be managed.

There is always reason to.

Even when the dears are not near, or the nears are not that dear—link arms and scootch in.

Don’t you dare fake a grander grin.
Your face does not have to say happy when your heart is not.

But your face can always reveal an abiding joy—simply because the I AM is—and is in you.

Stones of Remembrance Never Look Like Crown Jewels

No Ebenezer stone is lovely.

They are not gems chosen for cut, color, or clarity.
More often, they are found on the ground closest to where we laid down and thought we would die—but didn’t.

They are stones gathered on the shores of waters we thought we would drown in—but didn’t. The same waters that carried away plans and expectations, that traded a nightmare for new normals and dreams.

It’s not the stone that is beautiful or beneficial.

The good is found in the willingness to remember:

• the days you believed though you could not yet see

• the days you clung to a faithful God

• the days you were held because you could cling no more

Take the Picture—Especially This Christmas

It is important to collect reminders of every time God saved you.
Every time mercy showed up.
Every time grace was poured out.

Take the picture.

Take the picture this Christmas—even if it’s the agonizing first with or first without.
Painful beginnings and middles have their purpose too.

Someday, you will weep with gratitude as you look back on the weary faces from the hurting places—remembering how hard the year was, the tears you cried then, and how good God has been since.

And you will be so glad you remembered to take the picture.

So glad you have evidence—proof of life and Lord.

Courage, Dear Heart

Courage, dear heart.
You look lovely.

Christ sustaining you right now couldn’t be more beautiful.

Do you have a photo you’d like to share in this living record of our Redeemer’s faithfulness?
I’d love to see it.