What is the land of hope? Where is the land of hope? How do we pitch our tent in the land of hope when we grieve the death of one we love?

The seasons of nature are an integral part of God’s order in the world. The emotional muscle memory of grief often takes us by surprise. A time, a place, a smell, or an event can trigger our emotions and quickly transport us back to our experience of grief. Whatever the season, the heart remembers—always.

The assurance of God's faithfulness is that love is. Love is everlasting. Love is eternal. Love is real, “It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails (1 Corinthians 13:7-8 NIV).

Comfort is not a one-time, one-size-fits-all experience that can fix our grief and send us on our way in life. Rather, comfort is a recurring part of grief. When we grieve, God is persistent, often relentless in offering comfort, sometimes in ways we could never imagine. God comforts us again and again and again, “Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring me up. You will increase my honor and comfort me once again.” (Psalm 71:20-21 NIV).

What is it about grief that seems so at odds with the notion of recovery? When one we love dies, the feeling that all is lost seems far removed from any idea of recovery.

In case anyone needs permission, it is okay to admit that you feel relief when the holidays are history, over and done for another year. If we are honest, seasonal fatigue and exhaustion get the better of most of us at some time during or after the holiday season.

Whether you are surrounded by family, or find yourself alone in the days ahead, the experience of Christmas leads us inevitably to the manger. There we experience Emmanuel, God with us in the world in Christ. There we celebrate the light of the world.

Whether we approach the season with anticipation or apprehension, the experience of Christmas is about the eternal qualities of God. For those who live in darkness, Christmas may be an experience of light. For those who grieve, it may be an experience of comfort. For those who are lonely, it may be an experience of love. For those who feel empty, it may be an experience of joy.

For many, the holiday season is about superficial pleasure and merriment rather than the pursuit of deep spiritual joy. Those who are grieving the death of a loved one may feel tentative, conflicted, or even skeptical about entering into the festivities. We fear that if we participate, somehow our loved one will be lost or forgotten amid the stir of celebration.

Advent is a holy season of waiting. During these days we reflect, meditate, and prepare our hearts for the coming into the world of the promised Messiah.

Because of the rapid succession of holidays—Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s—often November and December feel like a time of prolonged remembrance. Grief intensifies our experience of seasonal events and occasions, whether at home, at school, at work, at church, or in the neighborhood. Wherever we go, whatever we do, there are painful reminders of our loved one.

 As we travel the journey of grief, we search for a new direction in life. With the death of one we love, the familiar roadmap of our life is turned upside down—in an instant north becomes south, east becomes west. We cannot get our bearings.