The Tension Between Grief and Joy
Of all the Christmas songs ever penned, my (secular) favorite is “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.” And while I’ve heard many versions of this song, the best version is by the sublime Judy Garland. When she sings, “Until then, we’ll have to muddle through somehow,” I feel, as the kids say, seen. Truly other artists’ renditions are lovely, but they miss something essential by replacing the “muddle through” line with “Hang a shining star upon the highest bough.” We look for the star, the sparkle, the shimmer. Bright lights, wrapped gifts, music, food, and family - that’s the Christmas sold on TV, online, and in stores. But muddling through? Who wants that?
However, when looking solely at its definition, “muddle through” describes my year, and I daresay others’ as well. I have been lost, confused, and disorganized, bumbling around trying to pull a semblance of a life together. Like many other Americans, I lost a loved one this year. I’m also unemployed. I have had multiple hypomanic episodes (including one last week) and depressive slumps. For the first time in my life, I feel such a high level of anxiety, my doctor prescribed medication to help manage it.
I know I’m not alone in feeling this way. I don’t have to tell anyone how devastating this year has been because we’re living it. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say surviving it. Muddling through certainly. I feel pressured to make this holiday “merry and bright,” as I’m sure others do. How can I make anything bright, though, when faced with everything this year has brought? How can I find joy when over 300,000 Americans have died from COVID-19? I’m not sure I’m made to hold so much tension.
Fortunately, I don’t have to live a yes-no life. I can live in the space between “and” and “yet”. Christmas is a time of joy and a time of grief, especially this year. I can mourn 2020, the lives lost, and the injustices suffered, and I can celebrate Christmas. I find great comfort knowing that my Savior is also well acquainted with grief. In fact, the Bible contains a verse that, despite its brevity, is one of the most powerful: Jesus wept (John 11:35). God knows what it’s like to live in a broken world because He robed Himself in flesh and became one of us. Born into a life of poverty that ended in an ignominious death - surely, He understands our sorrows.
Clichés aside, as a Christian, Jesus is the reason I celebrate Christmas. I can hold the fear, loss, and grief of 2020 because I’m held in His hands. The world is unyielding and savage, yet I have hope for a beautiful future. Grief is heavy, yet I can bear it. It’s not easy to balance these dichotomies, but in the stillness, I know this is true.
I sincerely wish that however (or whether) you celebrate the holidays, you will find a measure of peace and hope. In the wreckage of 2020, we’re still here. Still breathing. Still loving. Still muddling through.