Untangled Joy
Christmas. It’s the most wonderful time of the year. Peace on earth, good will toward men.* Perhaps for some…but not for all. More-often-than-not, I have found the Christmas season stirs emotion far from a wonderful time, absent of good will towards anything, and completely devoid of peace. While some may put on a happy face and try to pretend everything is fine, deep within their soul, they are grieving a loss, suffering from depression, healing from some type of pain, or dealing with an event that was completely unexpected. For others, Christmas triggers memories that once brought joy but now only remind of betrayal, rejection, and abandonment. Sometimes, the reality of where many are this time of year, gets lost amid tinsel and trees…carols and cocoa…lights and laughter. Living in this fallen world is overwhelming at times. There are those who can only see the tangled mess their lives have become or what is missing and joy and hope elude them. Oh, how I understand this. Have lived this. In the process of this. I get this. As a child, Christmas at my house was something I looked forward to. My daddy was a cabinetmaker by trade and didn’t make lots of money but he and my mom always made sure my siblings and I had one or two very special gifts under the beautifully lit tree. With each passing day on the December calendar, the anticipation of what was under the tree brought excitement and joy. This was the one time in the year we received special gifts from our parents simply because they loved us and wanted to bring us joy. There is one Christmas I remember more than any other. I can’t remember how old I was (maybe 7 or 8) when I received a precious little baby doll. I named her Joy because I was filled with joy from the moment I saw her. Joy came with all the special “baby” accessories that made the gift of her complete. I had everything I needed and spent hours pretending and dreaming of when I’d have babies of my own I knew would bring me even more joy. We moved when I was in high school and somehow Joy was misplaced in all the shuffle. I had planned to save her for my own little girls to play with someday. I looked through every box and even the trash but I didn’t ever find her. I had lost my Joy. As the years passed and I grew older, Christmas was still special but I started to notice that excitement and joy weren’t as prominent in my emotions. That is, until I met him. He was home on leave and we spent ten magical days together during the Christmas season. At that time in my life, he was my dream come true. The 31st day on that December calendar, ended with a marriage proposal, a diamond ring, and plenty of excitement and joy. I felt as if my life had just begun and was only going to get better. During my marriage, God blessed my life with three children and I was overcome with the immense joy I had dreamed of as a child. My heart was overwhelmed with fervent love at each birth because everything was falling into place, just as I dreamed it would. Christmas was always a big deal at our house. The gifts under the tree were excessive, to say the least, but to watch my children’s faces light up at the sight of what they’d received, brought a lot of joy. One memory that will be forever etched into my mind happened every Christmas. Before the days of pre-lit Christmas trees, if you desired lights, you had to purchase them separately. I’ve always marveled at new Christmas lights when taken from the box. They’re securely bound together yet flexible enough to serve the designed purpose, and completely unblemished. But once removed, they have to be pulled and stretched to ensure they’re manageable enough to be wrapped around the tree branches. Most of the time, these new lights would end up strung out all over the floor and completely tangled up. Or, worse yet, one of the lights would loosen during the stretching process or would be missing all together. When that would happen, it meant carefully checking each bulb or the entire strand wouldn’t work. All the lights on the strand had to be connected for them to work as they were designed. However, after what seemed like hours of watching my former spouse fight with them, once each bulb was intact, glowing with light, and in place on the tree, they were beautiful. The living room took on a warm, soft glow that was very peaceful. After Christmas was a different story. Between placement and removal, he’d forgotten how he’d twisted them around the branches and the tangled mess would ensue. Every year he fussed and fought with Christmas tree lights and the memory of that still makes me laugh. He had no patience whatsoever and, eventually, that years lights ended up where all the others had gone before them…either tossed into a box and stored away in the attic or were rejected all together and thrown out. It was just easier to toss them aside or throw them in the trash. He could always get new ones for next years tree. While the memory of those Christmas lights brings laughter, it also brings searing pain. The irony of how my life with him compares to those Christmas lights, shoots an arrow of deep pain into my heart. When our relationship began, I was secure in my life yet knew I could adjust to whatever God had purposed and designed for me, with my heart completely unblemished by the world. I was young, very impressionable, with a desire to make him happy so it didn’t take long before I was pulled in several different directions with my values and convictions being stretched