Inside: A gentle response that could lower the temperature of contentious arguments, plus advice from my dad about how to become a more gracious person.
I once had a difficult conversation with my dad. The details aren’t important; the point is that our disagreement was intense.
My dad listened to all my arguments. Rather than rebut them with his own, he calmly said, “I don’t look at it that way.”
Inside: The beginning of a new year is the perfect time to buckle down and finish projects that have been loitering on our to-do lists for far too long. ~
Several months ago, Randy called us all together to help him with a project. We went around the house, room by room, making a list of all the home-improvement tasks large and small we needed to do.
Randy had that list on the kitchen counter for several months. One by one, he checked things off. Get rid of dog scratches on all the interior doors—check. Add lighting in the attic—check. Put new vents in the bathrooms—check. Replace loose tiles on the kitchen floor—check. Install a hot-water circulation pump—check.
Inside: Favorite books, most-viewed blog posts, lessons my daughters taught me and a cross section of blessings from the past 12 months.
Where did the year go? I feel like I’ve said this about the previous month in almost every Share Four Somethings post I’ve done this year, and it is equally relevant when I look at 2022 as a whole.
So much has happened this year. The world seems like a different place than it did even six months ago, and I often don’t know what to think about that.
Inside: What we can learn from the dawn as we reflect on 2022 and look forward to a brand new year.
Some years, I can look back on the word I chose for the past 12 months and notice—sometimes to the point of goosebumps—how relevant and timely it was for my life during that season.
Fierce and bold, for the last years of my parents’ lives when helping them stretched me in ways I had never even imagined before. Full for 2020, when the world seemed to be falling apart but my grieving heart was starting to recover from my personal “worst year ever.”
Inside: Comfort and encouragement for those who have lost a loved one in recent years and struggle with grief at Christmas. ~
Four years ago, keeping Christmas saved me.
In 2018, I spent many December days running around like a chicken with my head cut off—to see my dad at the hospital, in rehab and then finally in long-term care with my mom; to his lawyer’s office, his banks, the investment broker’s office and my parents’ home in a neighboring town; to the places I needed to go to keep my own household running through the holidays.
In the midst of all that, my home was a much-needed sanctuary. The girls had decorated the house during a late November blizzard, and when I stepped in the door every day—after hours of trying to manage the details of my dad’s perplexing decline and future care—I was greeted by peace.
Nobody would have blamed us if we had decided to forego normal holiday traditions like making cookie boxes for friends and neighbors that year. Sometimes it’s better to hang a wreath on the front door and leave all the other decorations in the attic.
But Lilly had been taking a baking class at school, so we forged ahead and got all the cookies baked and delivered. We took time out to attend a For King and Country concert one night, and we even hosted Christmas dinner for extended family members who were in town to see my parents in the nursing home.
I look back and wonder how in the world we did it all. But I think I have an idea. It was God’s strength flowing through us, bolstered by the prayers of who knows how many people.
It was one of the hardest Decembers I’ve ever lived through, and yet, somehow, it was also one of the best Christmases in recent memory.
When the holidays rolled around again, I pushed ahead with the things that meant the most to those around me—but not with the kind of adrenaline-fueled energy I had the previous year.
My mom had died in April, my dad in May.
It was Christmas again. My parents were gone; the relatives were not coming.
We decorated the house, and it was all lovely and peaceful, but it was also … different.
There were all the emotions that go along with remembering what happened “this time last year.” There were all the normal trappings of navigating the first holiday season without mom and dad, grandma and grandpa, mother-in-law and father-in-law: the sadness, the foggy brain, the exhaustion, the lack of motivation, the works.
But at times, there was also something else. A heaviness greater than just grief. A collection of inner turmoil that an adult lifetime of walking with Jesus told me something else might be going on too.
For me, the first week of December was the worst. But early that week, something happened to alter my mindset.
Over the space of about three days, I heard the same scripture from three different sources—in a Sunday sermon, at my GriefShare class and then in a devotional the next morning.
The repetition of the verses made me think that this was a “right now word from God,” as a mentor of mine used to say. Not just for me that year, but perhaps for you today.
“Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God, so that He may exalt you at the proper time, casting all your care on Him, because He cares about you.
“Be serious! Be alert! Your adversary the Devil is prowling around like a roaring lion, looking for anyone he can devour. Resist him and be firm in the faith, knowing that the same sufferings are being experienced by your fellow believers throughout the world.
“Now the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ Jesus, will personally restore, establish, strengthen, and support you after you have suffered a little. The dominion belongs to Him forever. Amen.” 1 Peter 5:6-11 (HCSB)
I don’t know about you, but I’ve never seen this passage in an Advent devotional or Christmas reading. There’s no doubt Satan has ample opportunities to wreak havoc during the holiday season, but I’d rather not think of him prowling around the Christmas tree, stealing the joy and peace that might already be in short supply this year.
And yet, there it is. I won’t belabor the point, but I don’t think it’s a revelation to anyone reading this that the enemy of our souls doesn’t call off his attacks when we are at our most vulnerable. I didn’t know what that holiday season would bring, but looking back, the fact that it included a considerable dose of spiritual warfare isn’t a huge shock.
The story doesn’t end there, though. With Jesus, it never does.
I struggled more than I expected that first December after my parents died. But having 1 Peter 5 in the back of my mind, even during the darker moments, was a lifesaver.
It reminded me of truths I’ve long held dear—that greater is He who is in us than he who is in the world. (1 John 4:4) That what the enemy means for evil, God will work out for our good. (Genesis 50:20)
As we wait in hope for the second Advent, 1 Peter 5:6-11 also reminds us that the throne of heaven is open right now, its sovereign Occupant ever ready to receive even the smallest of cares that we humbly offer up to Him.
And whatever the next few days and the next 12 months bring, our Immanuel will go before us and be with us—in our victories and our failures, in our uncertainties and our pain, in our disappointments and our joys.
• • •
If this post spoke to you, I would love for you to share it with others via Facebook, email or however else you communicate.
♥ Lois
This post is part of a collection called Help for Parent Loss. To read more, please click here.
Even as we wait in hope for the second Advent, the throne of heaven is open, its sovereign Occupant ever ready to receive even the smallest of cares that we humbly offer up to Him. Share on X Whatever the next few days and weeks bring, our Immanuel will go before us and be with us—in our victories and our failures, in our uncertainties and our pain, in our disappointments and our joys. Share on XInside: What I’m loving this month, a book about grief for Little Women fans, braving constructive feedback and a glimpse of my daughter’s awesome creativity.
As I write this, my family and I are driving home from North Dakota, where we spent Thanksgiving break with Randy’s family.
One of the things I love most about North Dakota is the hugeness of the sky. The orientation of my mother-in-law’s house provides a mostly unobstructed view of the sunrise and the sunset, and both were glorious the last time we saw them there.
That’s not all I’m noticing these days, of course. And before we turn another page on the calendar and move full speed ahead into the holiday season, I’d love for you to join me as I look back and identify Four Somethings that have steadied me in recent weeks.