The heart behind an Advent devotional that will hold space for grief and find hope in the Advent season
On May 13, 2022, two ugly words obliterated my life – “daddy died.”
My dad was in excellent condition. He nourished and strengthened his body with great care. We often joked about how he, although the eldest, was the healthiest of us all. His death came as a complete shock.
To understand the depth of the grief I plunged into, you must understand that my family is extremely close-knit; we do everything together. My dad wasn’t just my dad – he was a beloved best friend who I talked to, almost daily. To lose him was like losing a part of my own body. And to have this amputation take place without warning, the grief crushed me.
I knew that because of our shared faith in Jesus Christ, I would see him again in eternity. But the large gap between now and not yet was unbearable. I wanted to see him now. I wanted heaven here now. I wanted to smash death and the way it wreaks havoc on the living to a million pieces. I was angry at the brokenness of this world, and I was full of sorrow.
In the blip of a heartbeat, my perspective on life, once full of bright color, was now eclipsed by the inky black shadow of death.
When the holiday season rolled around that first year I was only six months into life without my dad, still in the violent throes of acute grief. November contains Thanksgiving and my dad’s birthday, and then of course there’s Christmas and New Years; all dates that would typically be full of joy and togetherness. Now each one was a devastating reminder of my dad’s absence. I did not know how I was going to get through the holiday season without crumbling, let alone with an ounce of joy. I wanted to fast forward to mid-January.
As the Advent season approached, I floundered.
I told myself I wasn’t going to put up my Christmas tree. Why would I? I thought. I felt so far from the joy I typically felt when decorating for the season. It felt wrong to operate as normal when I felt anything but.
Then one day I flipped. In a flurry, I threw up our artificial Christmas tree and draped it full of as many lights as it could handle. My husband, a little surprised, asked what changed. And I told him, “Everything in my world feels dark right now. And I need as much light as I can possibly get.”
My tree, dripping in sparkling light, stood as a symbol. In the darkness of my grief, light and joy felt worlds away. But because of Jesus, I knew light was there, somewhere, somehow, even if I couldn’t grasp it with my hands. So I put up my tree, claiming the truth of Jesus and praying the light would permeate into my grief.
Grief and Advent
In the life of Christ followers, Advent (which means coming or arrival) is the season in the church where we anticipate the joy of Jesus’ first coming, and we wait expectantly for Him to come again.
Now that I’ve experienced deep grief, the word that resonates for me most when it comes to Advent is longing. We remember the days before Jesus’ birth when the Israelites longed for a savior. And we long for the day Jesus comes back and restores our broken world.
Longing is a desperate word. Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary uses these words to describe it – “An eager desire; a craving; a morbid appetite”
Never have I understood and felt the depths of a word more.
In grief, I deeply long for much.
For my dad’s physical presence. For peace. For rest. For days without heartache. For healing. For joy. For hope. For Jesus to come again and permanently wipe death off the face of the earth. For the moment I get to hug my dad again as we spend eternity together in heaven.
Longing and grief go hand-in-hand. And I now realize, so does Advent.
On the surface, Advent as a grieving person feels like salt in an open wound; a season of celebration and togetherness that begs us to “be merry and bright” when all we feel is the agonizing absence of what was lost. But if we dig a bit deeper, because of Jesus, Advent is an opportunity to press into our longing and in the depths of it find glimpses of hope.
An Advent Laced with Grief
Last December, I stumbled my way through Advent. I started reading an advent devotional I bought but I only made it two days. I could feel that Advent was a great way to channel my grief, so I wanted to keep going, but the content of the devotional was thick (which proved difficult with my foggy grief brain) and there was no mention of grief and all the emotions that come with it – something I was desperate for.
What I wanted – an advent devotional that would honor my grief, bear witness to my pain, and help me find hope and light in the season – didn’t seem to exist. Thus, the idea for An Advent Laced with Grief was born.
An Advent Laced with Grief is a 10-day devotional series that holds space for grief and finds hope in the Advent season.
Through Scripture, reflection, and the Biblical tool of lament, this email series will encourage the grieving heart to express their pain to the Lord and help them anchor themselves to the light, hope, and comfort that co-exists with grief because of Jesus.
Friend, if you find yourself here, I’m guessing your heart is heavy with longing and you’re desperate to feel seen and somehow experience light or comfort in this dark time.
I see you.
I understand how much you’re hurting and how heavy this Advent season feels.
And I wrote this series for you.
An Advent Laced with Grief is my way of coming alongside you in this Advent season; consider me a gentle friend who is here to invite you to share how you’re feeling, commiserate with your pain, and remind you that even if you can’t see it right now, there is always hope.
If you resonate with this, my prayer is that you would join me in An Advent Laced with Grief. Tap the button below to head to the sign-up page where you can learn more about the free email series and sign up.
