crying at christmas


It’s been a while since I wrote an actual post here. Mostly, I’ve been taking all the words I’ve got and pouring them into my books. But this blog started out as a place to share my thoughts, my pictures, things I was going through, in the hope of connecting with family and friends and others who came across my blog. So my hope is to get back to that a little more from now on and share a little more of me.

A few weeks ago, I went to a Christmas musical with my parents at the church where I grew up. It was lovely, the message wonderful – Jesus is the reason we celebrate Christmas! If not for Him, there would be nothing to celebrate. Toward the end, I felt a little like a few tears might escape, but I held them in.

This is something I had been doing a lot over the past year since we found out my dad needed a liver transplant. Maybe longer, I don’t know. I’d been holding things in, trying to stay strong, and for whatever reason, I had turned off my emotions and felt a little numb. I’m not sure why I didn’t feel like it was OK to cry about this. I just couldn’t.

But that night after I got home, some little family drama unfolded here. Nothing major really in the grand scheme of things. Just bickering and such. Words were said. Doors were slammed. Teenage attitude reared its ugly head. And when everyone had retreated to their little corners of our house, I sat alone by the Christmas tree and started to cry. And cry. And cry. And cry.

I went to bed early and cried. Woke up crying. And then I sat down and started writing this post, totally weeping. So much so that I stopped writing, saved it for later, and stepped away from my computer.

This past year was difficult, and I really felt like I should’ve been celebrating rather than crying my eyes out. Because my dad got his liver on November 7th! He’s on the road to recovery. God answered our prayers. Dad was able to attend that Christmas musical with us and see many of the friends who had been praying him through all along.

There was a mishmash of reasons I was crying. But mostly I think it was tears of joy over all God brought us through. When my bout of crying ended, I felt so much better for having finally let it out after holding it all inside for a year.

I guess I just wanted to share this because it’s what I was going through. It’s real and honest and true. And because I know I’m not the only one who was crying at Christmastime, but I know it’s OK that I was.

“For everything there is a season … a time to cry and a time to laugh.”
— Ecclesiastes 3

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