The Hard Holidays
I have been followed by an ever-present amorphous sadness for almost my entire life. I am 51 yrs old. It varies in strength from a casual unresolvable suspicion that I will never find the joy that others do in a sunset, to the feeling that being dead might a respite and a kindness
Cause he's still coming around like an injured bird needing a nest
A place to rest his head in a song you'll regret
Still you take him, Lord knows I don't want to compete
Still I sleep in the very sheets he's been in
Swallow him whole like a pill that makes you choke, steals your soul
You have the nerve to look me in the eyes and lie
Send him back, I won't share the trap that you have me in
Is he still coming around like an injured bird needing a nest
A place to rest his head in a song you'll regret
Still you take him, Lord knows I don't want to compete
Still I sleep in the very sheets he's been in. Damien Jurado, Sheets
As a school counselor, I have seen over the years--as the bright light expectancy of the season arises--so does the shadow of sadness for those kids who have suffered/are suffering loss. One person's happiness only accentuates the difference of others--between the have and have nots. This doesn't necessarily correspond to income. Yet, add brokenness emotionally to brokenness financially, then the pain is doubled-down. There is nothing noble and fun in being poor.
I consider it a blessing that I grew up in a wealthy enclave of America. I saw that money only multiplied misery for those souls astray. One needs a certain amount of money to feel content. More doesn't really matter. A Rolex watch tells time no better than a Seiko or a Timex for that matter. A BMW demonstrates the need of a person to communicate that he/she is elite culturally more than any automotive criteria. I bet my Civic is actually a more reliable car. Plus, I have a sweet Thule bike and boat rack on top of the roof!
As we crack the a Bible, sometimes we read Jesus's words in red. I don't think that is an accident, for His words portend of wounds to come. Blood shed on behalf of a broken world. From stable swaddling clothes to bloody burial cloth, sleep in these sheets of sorrow. Become acquainted with them.
Although modern day Christians in America seem to be more inclined to inflict harm on others versus absorbing evil--being a squeegee rather than a sponge--pushing suffering across the table to our opponents rather take it in, our ancient brothers and sisters were under no illusions that suffering was an integral of being a saint. They signed up for it. And not just their own, but the world they lived in. They paid debts they didn't incur. How far we have fallen. How much we have failed. A cross? That is for someone else! We will even help take your measurements and custom-build it for that perfect fit. Political/Spiritual gerrymandering for sure. But we got our seat on the Supreme Court!
We want to be happy. Holiness can wait. Some of the students who suffer the most are under no illusions of the world being harsh. They see it, they experience it, they are sad. And we label that as abnormal! I try to legitimize it. If Andy Richter (Conan's Ed McMahon) was my counselee, I would commend him for his honesty, his willingness to call it like he sees it, and he sees it well.
Joy is different than happiness. Joy is having peace and hope internally despite external circumstances and conditions. Joy is a strong flame that withstands the winds of adversity, happiness is dependent on the oxygen of circumstances. Easily blown out.
The Holidays are Hard. Face it, embrace it, expect it.
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