With alarming frequency we stand as helpless bystanders to rolling acts of senseless violence and share in the grief of parents, family, friends, educators, entire communities, and indeed the world. As we bear witness to the unthinkable, a sense of our own powerlessness seeps into every corner of life. The bedrock of our faith and the beliefs at the heart of all we hold dear are tested and shaken. From the depths of our soul we ask, “Where is God?” We want to know. We insist on answers when there are none. We question, we probe our faith, and again ask, “Where is God?”

When we grieve often it's simply not possible to find words that adequately express our sorrow, our pain, and our inmost needs.

During the worst of times, the changing seasons remind us of the steady, faithful presence of God, “for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone” (Song of Solomon 2:11). In spring, the beauty of nature holds the promise of new life—daffodils emerging from the earth, the rich colors of tulips in bloom, the first tentative azaleas in bud. Trees seem to burst into full leaf almost overnight. As surely as spring fades, inevitably nature moves toward the heat of summer, the first chill of autumn, and the cold of winter.

Anger is a common emotional reaction to our physical separation from a loved one. For many, anger is a very real part of the experience of grief when someone we love dies. Anger is a normal response to the seeming injustice of death. When we grieve, we’re not prepared for how it feels to be angry.

The overarching emotion most of us feel when we grieve is all-consuming sadness.

In case anyone needs permission, it is okay to admit that we feel relief when the season has passed, especially when we are grieving. 

Time does not stand still for those who grieve.

In Luke 2, verses 10-11 we read, “But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid, for see, I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.’”

We make our way through the valley of the shadow of death because of the certainty of light, the assurance of God's light, the light we seek at Christmas.

At this time of the year, whatever festival or occasion you celebrate, most of us can recall a vignette of some kind that is part of our personal lore of the season. Some experiences we cherish and remember for a lifetime, others persist in memory, though in truth maybe they are better forgotten.

Grief often collides with the ongoing celebration of life.

As the custom of the Christmas tree developed in the 19th century, “O Tannenbaum” was adopted as a Christmas carol. The song speaks of the ever-green quality of the fir as a symbol of constancy and faithfulness. When we reflect on the spiritual imagery represented by the Christmas tree, we’re reminded of God’s faithfulness to us, especially as we grieve, “Know therefore that the Lord your God is God; He is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commands” (Deuteronomy 7:9 NIV).