Reflections on Grief
In this season when light and joy are often expected to shine without shadow, we pause here to honor the truth that Christmas also carries grief for many of us who have lost a loved one. The reflections you will read below—woven from poetry, prose, and letters—come from one of our own, who has chosen to share the tender places of loss and longing alongside the promise of Emmanuel, God with us. This piece is not a single story but a tapestry: words shaped by sorrow, memory, and faith, stitched together to remind us that grief is not outside the circle of Advent but held within it. As you read, may you find yourself walking gently with Violet, listening for echoes of your own story, and discovering how Christ’s coming meets us even in the ache. May her reflections help us hold both loss and hope, trusting that Emmanuel is with us still. - Pastor Abi
The birds outside my window are singing the same songs they sang last year. They are songs of hope, songs of adventure, and songs of determination. They are songs of fear. Are these the same songs I heard several years ago as I took my first step into college dorm life? Are they the same songs that accompanied me through the chapel doors on my way to becoming a married woman? Could they be the same songs that followed me around the world as a Navy wife. Are they the same cries I heard as I struggled year after year to become pregnant? Are these the same songs I heard when I again pursued college? Could they possibly be the same lullabies I heard as I looked into my daughter’s eyes for the very first time? Are they the same cries I heard as I soothed my mother’s brow and recited, “The Lord I my Shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lay down in green pastures…? Are these the same songs I heard just a few years ago when I once again ventured into academia? Are they the same songs I heard last week as I listened to my daughter lament over boyfriends? I do believe the birds outside my window are singing the same songs they’ve sung for years. The tone is different, but the song is the same.
Mom Is
Chocolate chip cookies,
warm fresh bread,
an old robe,
jeans and a sweatshirt,
soup,
a bright turquoise turban,
a small poodle,
holidays,
the kitchen,
a roast beef dinner with homemade noodles,
a mother, a wife and a child,
traveling to new places,
cows and chickens,
the farm,
homemade.
“Mom, I wrote a letter to Grandma.” announced Nicole in a very matter of fact tone.
“That’s nice, Honey,” I absentmindedly replied as I frantically scribbled the final note and stuffed her last fourth grade picture into an envelope. “If I’m lucky,” I thought, these will all arrive before Christmas.” Nicole continued, “Mommy, can we send it with a Christmas card? Do you and Daddy want to say hello to Grandma? I left room at the bottom!” Daddy cautiously peered over the top of his newspaper. Our eyes met, and we exchanged a look of bewilderment. I knew he was waiting for a signal from me, but I was deep in thought.
The rain made it almost impossible to see the road. Gripping the steering wheel, I peered ahead. A clap of thunder and streak of lightning startled Nicole awake. After a sizable yawn, she mumbled, “Are we almost there?” I wanted to keep her safe. I wanted to tell her that Grandma’s house was just beyond the nest hill. But I replied, “No, Honey, we have a long way to go.” After what seemed like an eternity, she asked, “What is heaven like? Are there storms?” With the rain beginning to subside, I loosened my hold on the steering wheel and slowly answered, “I don’t know. I’ve never been there, but I think it must be beautiful.” Without hesitation the innocent five-year-old said, “Grandma will know!’ As we were careening down the next hill, the sun came out, and a rainbow appeared. “Yes,” I declared, “Grandma will know.”
Letters
Dear Grandma,
How are you? I am fine. I hope you are having a good time. Have you met anybody fun? Are you doing anything special for Christmas? I can’t wait for Santa to come. With Love, Nicole
PS. I do miss you!!!! XXOOXX00XXOO
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Mom,
Christmas is hectic. Life is confusion. There’s never enough time. But I am staying calm just like you always encouraged me to do. You were right children do make life worth all the effort. Wish you were here….
With hugs and kisses, Violet
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Erma,
The holidays are crazy as usual. We made it through.
We always do.
Love, Durf
Nothing has changed. Dad was outside working on his latest project, grease accumulation on his hands and clothes. Sasha was yipping at the door, desperate to be a part of whatever my father was up to. Fresh chocolate chop cookies lined the countertop. The aroma of just baked bread permeated the air. Mom was standing at the kitchen sink. The bright turquoise turban perched atop her head and the array of medicines, keeping guard on the lazy susan, told another story. I stood in the doorway, afraid that my voice would shatter the peaceful scene. As had happened so many times before, the floorboards creaked beneath my feet. She turned and smiled, “Good morning. Did you sleep well?” With all the bravery I could muster, I replied, “Of course, I always do when I’m here.”
----
“Mommy, wait. Put this picture in the envelope. I made it in school today. And this…” I was at my wit’s end. I snapped, “Nicole, you wait. You’re acting like we can send your whole room to Grandma. Everything will not fit.” Nicole’s big brown eyes looked up at me. Sadly, she said, “I just want it to be perfect.” I stopped—caught off guard, The words on the tip of my tongue evaporated. I gazed into space and thought, “Mom, what do I do?” As if by magic, a feeling of warmth came over me, and I remembered another time, another place. Smiling, I said “I’m sorry, Nicole. I know this is important. I know you want it to be perfect. I understand.”
----
Tugging at Grandma’s sleeve, Nicole chimed, “Can I talk to you?” My mother, always ready to drop whatever she was doing and attend to life's important little questions, looked down and replied, “Certainly. You know you can talk to me anytime, about anything.”
In her most grown-up voice, Nicole asked, “What does heaven look like?” Thankful that I had warned my mother, I sat back in anticipation of her reply. To my surprise she answered, “I don’t know. I’ve never been there, but I do believe it’s wonderful. She continued, “I believe it’s a peaceful place, a place without worries or fears.”
Nicole pondered this and retorted, but, Grandma, won’t you be lonely?” I cringed, and Grandma chuckled, “My dear, I won’t be lonely. I’ll be watching over you. I’ll see your every move; I’ll know your every dream. You are the one who will be lonely.” I watched as Nicole reflected on her newfound wisdom. With trepidation, I waited for her reply. Tugging on Grandma’s sleeve, she said, “Will you read me a story?”
----
The day was perfect. The sun was shining brightly overhead. A gentle breeze was blowing. Unable to control her excitement, Nicole was out the door before I had a chance to pick up the envelope. She was squealing with delight. “Mommy, will it work? Will Grandma get our letter?” I checked the sky as I responded, “I hope so.” Silently, I prayed. We held hands and watched as the brightly colored balloons slowly drifted away. “Look Mom, a rainbow. Do you think Grandma can see it?” A smile formed as raindrops dotted my tear-stained cheeks. Peering down, I said, “Yep, Grandma sees it.” Looking up, I whispered, “Thank you.”
Through the eyes of my daughter, I discovered that my mother had an enormous impact on who I am today. She taught me that although the road of life is paved with confusion it can be weathered. I learned to be calm in the midst of a storm. She taught me that a smile gets you further than a frown. I learned compassion. She taught me that although it sometimes hurts, giving from your heart reaps the best rewards. I learned honesty. She taught me that you must cherish the ones you love. I learned to believe.
Reflect on God's Word
"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." ~ Psalm 34:8
Isaiah 9:2, 6-7 (ESV)
Take a Moment to Pray
Lord Jesus,
You came down to earth from heaven, bringing light into our darkness. In this season, when grief feels near and peace feels far, help me to taste and see that You are good. Hold my sorrow within Your promise and let Emmanuel—God with us— be my comfort, my peace and my hope.
When I am overwhelmed, help me to rest in Your presence, awaiting the day when every tear is wiped away. Until then, we walk gently with You, our Savior born in royal David’s city. For you are Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace -- the One who makes all things new -- even our grief.
In this Advent season, when sorrow and hope mingle, shine Your light upon our hearts. Let Your justice and peace grow without end, until the day when every tear is wiped away, and all creation rests in Your everlasting peace. Amen.
Listen to the Carol
This carol emphasizes Christ’s own experience of family and human vulnerability. The verse “And He feeleth for our sadness, and He shareth in our gladness” reminds us that Jesus knows the ache of loss and walks with us.