For a child is born to us, a son is given to us. The government will rest on his shoulders. And he will be called: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6 NLT)
A distant relative texted me when she heard about my dad’s death. She remarked on how sad it was to lose someone so close to Christmas. I have been reflecting on that statement and find myself rejoicing that the family that is left will have not just the funeral time, but also the Christmas time to spend together as we grieve. Will we miss Dad? Of course. But we won’t be alone as we grieve.
I saw this poem on social media and it made me smile – and remember that there are many families that are experiencing grief during this season. Thankfully, God’s mercies are new every morning. He is our HOPE in the midst of trials, thanks be to God!!
Every Christmastime season, in homes far and near, Hearts gather in wonder—“The King is here!”
But this year felt different… a shadow slipped in,
Not the Grinch dressed in green, but a sorrowful twin.
It padded in softly…no clanging, no clatter,
Just memories that ached and a soul bruised and tattered.
It crept in at dusk, in the hush of a song,
And whispered, “This year… things feel painfully wrong.”
It clung to old stockings
and flickered in lights,
It trembled in mornings
and wept through the nights.
It stood in the doorway
where someone once stood,
And murmured, “If they were here… oh, Christmas would be good.”
This grief, this strange guest,
didn’t steal gifts or trees,
But it stole expectations
and dropped hearts to their knees.
It wrapped cold around joy
like a frost in the air,
And followed me room to room
as if tied to my prayer.
I tried to shoo it…
“Not now, not today!”
But grief simply settled
and refused to walk away.
It tugged on my sweater,
It clung to my sleeve,
It hummed, “I am the proof of the love you still weave.”
Then softly, it spoke
like a whisper from Heaven,
A reminder as old
as Isaiah’s chapter seven,
“A virgin shall conceive… His name shall be Immanuel.”
“God with you. God FOR you. God here.”
Grief wasn’t here to destroy all that’s sweet,
It knelt at the manger.
It bowed by the cradle
of God wrapped in skin,
And said, “Even sorrow has a place to come in.”
Because Christ came for heartache,
for mourning, for tears;
For the years that feel shattered,
For the hopes lost to fear.
He didn’t avoid the world’s ache or its pain,
He entered the darkness
so light could remain.
And slowly—so slowly—
I felt something shift.
Like a warm, wind,
like a long-promised gift.
And grief’s heavy shadow,
though still by my side,
Was no longer the thief
but a truth sanctified.
For grief is just love
that has nowhere to go.
And love is the story
that Advent longs to show.
A King who stepped down,
feeling every ache too,
The One who redeems
both the old and the new.
So, grief pulled up a chair
at my table this year,
Not gently, not quietly,
but divinely sincere.
And I realized—right there—
in the soft candle glow,
That this love I still carry
needed somewhere to go.
And then came the miracle,
unexpected, unplanned:
A widening of heart
by the touch of God’s hand.
My heart—cracked and trembling—
grew two sizes that night,
To hold both the shadows
and Heaven’s pure light.
Big enough for sorrow.
Big enough for song.
Big enough for “it’s broken,”
and big enough for “it’s strong.”
Big enough for the grief
and the joy intertwined—
For the love that was lost
and the love left behind.
So no….
Grief didn’t steal Christmas.
It revealed what is true:
That love is eternal,
and Christ carries you.
And sometimes the heart
must stretch painfully wide
To let both the tears
and the miracles ride.
This Christmas, grief’s welcome
for it’s proof of love’s claim.
And joy sits beside it,
whispering Jesus’s name.
And my heart?
Grown two sizes…
To hold all that I miss, and all that I still hold.
They both can exist, and when you realize that,
You’ll feel Heaven lean low…
…and Christmas begin.
Abba,
Comfort those who mourn, and give them deep assurance of your Presence and your Peace, we ask in Jesus’s name. AMEN.