No one wants to feel broken at Christmas. But you do. We want brokenness to stop for holidays and special events, but life just isn’t like that. So here you are. You are moving slowly. You are hurting. You feel listless, painfully aware of what’s not right in your life or in your heart.
And then there’s Christmas. With the lights and the gifts and the baking and the dreaded Christmas letter (how do you sum up where you are right now in that darn family Christmas letter?! Ahh, maybe this is the year you don’t write one).
How can you and your brokenness coalesce with the Christmas season? You don’t want to do Christmas. You want to stay in bed until January 2nd-ish.
You tell God – who sent Jesus as a baby and who holds your circumstances in his hands – how you feel.
You lay it all out before him. You tell him you feel broken. You tell him you’re done. You tell him you’ve had it up to here. You tell him that Christmas, this year, will just have to go on without you.
You roll it all onto him, as my mentor says. And then you wait. And you rest. And you take a look at your holiday to-do list and maybe scratch out a thing or two (no one will miss that letter).
You just let yourself be broken.
Do not for one moment think that you need to be something that you’re not. That you need to muster up wholeness and fake-happy just because it’s December.
You do not.
And if you think you do, who told you that?
If it’s anyone other than Jesus, you do not have to listen.
You, sweet one, just walk your broken self to that Baby in the manger. You kneel down. You tell him you love him and tell him you’re broken and you ask for his healing and love. That’s all you have to do today.
The Lord will perfect that which concerns me. –Psalm 138:8– (NKJV)
God, I am hurting. I can’t see past my pain today. I do not want to celebrate Christmas. I’m sorry, but it’s true. I need you to heal me. I need you to carry me. I just need you. Amen.