On Christmas

As I write this, I am cozied up on my couch under a favorite blanket watching MASH Christmas episodes because when Charles' candy for the orphans ends up on the black market, I get teary-eyed, and when they sing Dona Nobis Pacem, I sing, too, in my choked up sort of way.

Tomorrow my brother and my new fur-niece will be here for lunch, and we'll open gifts and play board games and laugh...and it'll be my favorite Christmas ever.

For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, this Christmas feels whole. I feel whole. When I look around the table, I see the amazing people who are here, not the ones who aren't, and my table...and heart...are full.

However, I know many of you are not having your favorite Christmas ever. In fact, some of you are having the Christmas from hell. Instead of a whole Christmas, there is a big gaping hole, maybe a few gaping holes. And while I am awake writing this, you are simply awake.

I want you to know I'm sorry. I'm sorry about the holes, and I'm sorry about the empty chairs, and I'm sorry about the traditions that aren't the same because life isn't the same. I'm sorry you are having to fight through feeling like hell to celebrate the Prince of Heaven, and I'm even sorrier if you aren't fighting at all but just trying to survive any way possible. I understand. And if all you  can do is survive, then survive. Just get through the days.

I also want you to know since the week before Thanksgiving I've been praying for you because I know that an empty chair is an ocean of grief, and I know the comfort of tradition can cut like a knife. And...God in heaven...I know.

So I'm praying for you.

I'm praying for your comfort and for your peace. I'm praying for your healing. And I'm praying you have the courage to get through. I'm praying for your strength. I'm praying...that one day your Christmas won't be like this one.

Until then, I'm praying....