By Emily Leung
'T
is the season to be jolly?
This past year was stressful, difficult, and well, if I’m honest…it kind of sucked. (Am I allowed to say that here?) From Delta to Omicron to racial injustice and the impending consequences of the changing climate, I am overwhelmed. It feels harder to celebrate when I’m reminded that my grandmother passed away this time last year, and I never got to really say goodbye. From global to personal, we’re told that the holidays are for tidings of great joy with our family and friends. But where is the cheer? I’m not sure I even want to make the drive to my parents’ home for Christmas. My entire family isn’t exactly on speaking terms.
However, in the middle of the mess, we can look to God in lament. We can draw close to the Father. Through the Psalms we read the cries of the Psalmist, "Give ear to my words, O Lord; consider my groaning (Psalm 5:1 ESV).” God is here in our lamentations. God is here in the reminders of death, family brokenness, and global and personal pain.
But maybe that’s it though? Living in the already, but not yet. Leaning into the both/and of life? The holidays provide reason to both celebrate, join, commune, and lament. We are given the opportunity to sit and reflect with the Lord. What does it look like for us to embrace our neighbor, sister, brother, both blood and chosen? How can we find balance in the not yet? We have not reached heaven—there is still brokenness. So what comes next? How do we both find true joy and sit and process our muck?
The Gospels show us the journey of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus. Out of the persecution of Herod, this baby is born into the world to save us. And I think that is something of the paradox and the tension that we live in. Having heard of the prophecy of a new King, Herod sets out in search of this baby boy. Mary and Joseph find themselves in a stable having been required to register in their town of origin. I can hardly imagine what it must have been like to give birth in the first century. Now add some livestock and hay? Soon after, the family finds themselves once again on the move. Herod had called for the murder of young Jewish males under the age of two. The moments of celebration of the Son of God born in a manger by the three wise men is immediately followed with oppression and struggle.
This past year for me has been hard on my mental health. In my depression, hopelessness, and brokenness, it is in these moments where I find freedom in lamentations—I am free to ask God what is going on and what I am going to do. However, it is in the same breath I am also reminded of the grace and love that comes from the Lord. I am met with the warmth of a community of support filled with friends, family, mentors, and teachers. For God is here with us for he is Immanuel. Here in the moments where I question if there will be reconciliation with my brother or if I will find a church community in my city, I am reminded that I do not carry this alone. God is with me in this. He sees me. He sees my brother. He sees his people. And he loves us. In our heartbreak we are reminded of God's heart for us. For he gave his only son for us to have access to new life. In the adversity, the oppression, and the waiting for direction or promises to be fulfilled, we sit in tension with the peace and sanctity of God’s gift to us.
It is not easy. It is not always so clear and bright. But it is the promise that God gives us. That we are seen and loved in the eyes of the Lord. This love is what we have the opportunity to share not only during the holidays, but also throughout the year. Here we find joy—truly believing in the hope of God with us. Communing with the Spirit. Trusting that God is so much bigger than our cries and groans. Knowing that God is so much more than the brokenness of our lives and world.
As we look forward to what comes next, into the new year, I cannot say the road will be any less rugged. But we shouldn’t worry about tomorrow. Today has enough troubles of its own. Today also has joys of its own. Together in the family of God we sit in the community and the brokenness, in the laughter and the tears, in the already and the not yet. For we are reminded and centered hearing, “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel (which means, God with us)” (Matthew 1:23 ESV).
