Luminous
A Catholic Woman and Her Thoughts on Life, the Universe, and Everything
Thursday, December 21, 2006
For The Less Than Happy At Christmas
For The Less Than Happy At Christmas

Not everybody has a happy Christmas. For some people Christmas is, for one reason or another is a time for a few tears, either because of their memories or because of the situations in which they find themselves as the day draws closer. Perhaps someone they love is  sick, or it's an anniversary of a sad time... Maybe times are tough for them financially, or they are lonely. There are many reasons why the season that should be full of joy is actually tinged with some sadness. I work in the psych field. I come into contact with many people for whom this time of year is a time of distress, rather than a time of joy. In the dark of the night often all I can do is murmur into the phone, "I know, I know, ..... I'm so sorry..... I'm so sorry..... Hang on..... It gets better."  Often it feels like it never will. But I try to remind them that "never" is a very long time, and all we have to do is get through the next little while, and then the next little while, and keep doing that. Don't look at the long haul. Just the next little while.
 
There are no easy answers, especially when you start to feel really low, and you look around you and you feel like everyone else is feeling happy or has it better. And then you start feeling bad because you feel like you're being covetous or envious, so now you feel bad and you feel guilty! And if someone comes to you for comfort, it's often difficult to know what to say. You may have your own stressors, your own pain. And it's often difficult to understand completely where the other person is coming from, because each of us is unique, no two circumstances are the same.

For those whose Christmas will not be the happiest time in their lives, I'd like to offer something that I personally find helpful and comforting in the hopes that it you might also see it as valuable.
 
Teresa of Avila wrote that she felt that she didn't have much of an imagination, so she personally found reading holy books and looking at holy pictures to be quite helpful. She particularly liked to meditate on pictures of Our Lord right before she went to bed, and she would imagine that she was with Him, standing right beside him, not necessarily talking to him, but like Mary of Bethany, sitting at His feet, drinking in His holy presence, listening to all He had to say. She said she would make the Sign of the Cross every night, and then would put herself into these holy pictures, and meditate on them, until she fell asleep, peacefully. She would even imagine that she was present with him in the Garden of Gethsemane, during His most terrible suffering, and then all her troubles and cares would drop away, and seem so small, next to His carrying all the sins of the world. And she would long to comfort Him, if even for  just a moment. Her heart would break for Him. Yet, even if she were meditating on something as sad as the Agony in the Garden, she would find peace in her heart, standing there by the side of Christ, just offering Him comfort by her presence, when He was suffering and alone. Other times she would meditate on other instances in the Life of Christ, of course. You could choose. Advent is a perfect time to begin this type of meditation. 
 
Sometimes I like to look at a picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Help that I have on the wall of my bedroom. Our Lord clutches His Blessed Mother and she holds him close, comforting him, as two angels show him the tools of the future crucifixion. He is comforted by her love, her protecting arm, and her the strength that only a mother can give a child. She sings him a sweet lullaby, there is no need to worry, her sweet little one, "go to sleep, my love" she whispers. And I can imagine that she whispers the same thing to me.

If Christmas is not going to be the happiest time in your life, then perhaps putting yourself "in the picture" might help. Try it, see what happens. Who knows what graces you might receive?