So there has already been a time when I feel like my life was falling apart. And I wrote about it. And I asked for prayers about it. And I went to meetings about it. And I found some clarity and acceptance about it.
So why do I circle back around to feeling this way again? Why can’t this be resolved?
This coming February marks two years since I fell into a mild depression. I like to call it a funk because that makes it seem less serious.
This coming Sunday marks the (observed) anniversary of the arrival of our Savior bringing joy into this world.
So why does the funk outweigh the joy?
I think one of the biggest challenges we face in dealing with our lives is that we are not living a television show. We are so used to resolutions. We are so used to quick fixes.
But it isn’t just television culture that does this to us. We do it to ourselves. And to each other.
We spend so much time hiding what we are actually going through that people look at us and think we have it all together. And we look at them and think they have it all together. And the end result is instead of sharing our hurts and struggles with one another we have this need to show one another how put together we are.
And then we wake up in a funk the week before Christmas and can’t figure out why.
Because, after all, what is Christmas except a momentary celebration with lights, wrapping paper, carols, movies, and an extra church service or two? We get a couple extra days off of work or school and spend much of that time complaining that we are bored or surrounded by too many people.
But it is to that funk that Christmas specifically speaks. The message of Christmas is that life does indeed go on. And that means all the pain, all the struggle, all the frustration will still continue. That means there will still be sickness. There will still be death. There will still be broken relationships.
But into all of that, Jesus enters.
Are you hurting? He will hurt with you.
Are you doubting? He will listen to your questions with no judgment.
Are you lonely? He wants to comfort you.
Have his followers messed you up? He will not pull any punches with them.
Are you so lost that you think he doesn’t care about you? He still comes. Every day. Because he loves you.
So for the next few days, my funk will intermingle with my joy. I will have doubts, questions, and fears. And I will sing songs loudly with a smile on my face. I will wonder why things cannot get any better. And I will feel joy when family members get excited about their presents. I will feel sorrow when I think about the people who are not celebrating with us this year. And I will feel a sense of awe and wonder as I gather to worship the Savior.
My funk may or may not go away. And even if it does, it is likely to come back. But that is okay. Because I am not walking through it alone. So my Christmas may not be as merry as it could be.
But it will still be the source of my joy.