When God redeemed my worst Christmas ever by using it for good, it came as a big surprise. Most likely because 1982 was the year of my worst Christmas ever, and the using it for good part didn’t come along until December of 2024. 42 years is a long time, which explains my surprise.
Seasons help us to realize we’re not alone. We might still feel alone but we can see things differently and then change our thinking, and even our responses. We know everyone goes through “stuff” but sometimes we need to recognize it just happens to be our turn. The harder part is that we still have someone we are caring for full time, 24/7 added to the new hard stuff!
For families like mine, with an autistic child and my own ADHD and anxiety, Christmas is rarely “calm” or “bright.” In fact, it is often loud, noisy, and overwhelming. Our children get overwhelmed by the lights and the new items. We, as parents, get overwhelmed by all the mess and noise. There are so many sensory inputs flowing through that you feel like you are in a never-ending vacuum of noise. And, that doesn’t even take into account that I’m operating on just a few hours of sleep after leading multiple Christmas services as a pastor.
Ruth saw a bright future for herself. She didn’t have an exact plan in front of her. But at 18, she vaguely knew what she wanted in the future: a master’s degree, a husband, a job she enjoyed, and children. Emma was on another path altogether. When Emma turned 18, she was already enrolled in a school for students with more significant disabilities.
Zechariah, despite being visited by an angel, doubted what he had been told, and so Gabriel told him that because of this doubt, Zechariah would not be able to speak until his son was born. So, he became unable to speak, and therefore unable to communicate through speech. What did he do? And what does his story teach us about people who cannot communicate by speech, or choose not to, today?
The cloth masks we wear to protect against COVID-19 obscure our faces. If people are smiling around me, I cannot tell. As soon as it is safe outside, I rip the facial mask off. I take a deep breath and feel instant relief. My state requires facial coverings while out in public, and I am not sure that I will ever get accustomed to them. But there are some invisible masks I am more than comfortable wearing.
Our childrens’ diagnoses and challenges bring grief, anger, bitterness, and/or sadness into our lives. Grief is natural, healthy, and necessary. Even Jesus wept. But we are not made to get stuck in a place of grief and bitterness. Even Ruth didn’t see the whole picture. We have to keep persevering like Ruth did.
When I felt I was at my absolute breaking point, God whispered one word that broke the silence and banished the anxiety and grief that had gripped my heart for so long. Then God revealed area after area of my life that I needed to embrace. I I was convicted, but encouraged, and I knew I was loved by the God of the universe.
