By Ash Egler

Christmas, the most wonderful time of the year.

That’s how the song goes, isn’t it?

But that doesn’t account for the weight of loss during the holiday months. That time feels different for those of us who walk this world with a missing piece of our hearts. For those who might have once answered the question “What’s your greatest fear” with snakes, spiders, or the dark but come to realize what the worst fear truly is: the loss of a loved one.

It’s easy to think a tragedy will never happen to you or your family. You hear about unthinkable situations on the news and pray for those affected by loss . . . but when cancer comes knocking on your brother’s door, you don’t realize how suddenly the world shifts.

When you lose a loved one there is a piece of yourself you never get back. A hole that can never be filled. And that emptiness is amplified at certain times of the year: the loved one’s birthday and the anniversary of their death and Christmas are the biggest three that I have felt.

I was always in love with Christmas magic growing up. The fact that we got to celebrate the birth of our Savior. The irony of some of the coldest and shortest days also being the most cheerful and family-filled. At least, that’s how it was for me.

I was the only girl in my family, the youngest of four with three older brothers. Family has always been everything to me. As we grew up, there was so much love, laughter, joking, and chaotic fun. There were four and a half years between the youngest and the oldest, but my siblings and I were a tight knit crew. I was 19 when we heard the news that shook our world: “Matt has cancer.” And suddenly it was hard to find a light in the darkness. The tears felt like they would never stop.

He was 25 when he passed after a year-and-half-long battle. He fought like a warrior, even when he didn’t think he was. He was my warrior. I have never seen someone’s faith so alive and strong. In between yelling at God and bargaining with him to give me the disease to save and spare my brother, I’d tiptoe past my brother’s room and see him on his knees in prayer. Sometimes I wondered where he found the strength to continue to draw close to God. How he continued to believe he was even there.

But God showed up in and through Matt’s story. From friends and family who surprised our family of six with a trip to Hawaii to celebrate Matt’s 25th birthday to the stranger who offered to repave our driveway for free, God was proving he had not forgotten us. In a way, that’s what made the ending hurt so much more. He knew the bond my family had had, how family was everything to us. In his goodness, he did heal my brother. Just not in the way I had hoped.

I remember near the end I began to pray the hardest prayer of my life: “Lord, not my will but yours be done,” and then I would add “But Lord, if it is your will, please heal my brother here on earth.” Even in unanswered prayer, I have learned about the goodness of God. I’m not saying this journey has been easy. I would never wish the loss of a loved one on anyone. But I have seen my brothers grow closer to God in their grieving. My relationship with God has become just that, an actual relationship, rather than a one-sided conversation. I know he can handle my anger, my hurt, my sadness. And I know he is with me celebrating my joys.

While the holiday season has been a battle in years past, I celebrate the birth of the Savior and know he is my hope to see my brother again. That when something silly happens or we try a new experience, one day I will tell Matt all about it. That there can be joy in loss since I know we are both rooted in the goodness of Christ’s salvation.

While the Christmas songs with their cheerful melodies may still sting, life through loss is still possible during the most wonderful time of the year. Though we walk around with a piece of our heart missing, Christ comes and stands in that place. He does not take their place as if he’s erasing their significance; instead, he lets us know that he loves us—and those we’ve lost—more than we can imagine.

Friend, rest in the goodness of God. Loss is not an easy journey to walk but know that you never walk it alone. The Creator of the world holds your hand and holds your pain and sorrow. He is big enough to take your anger, despair, and exhaustion. And he wants to give you his peace and love in return.

Takeaways:

• This holiday season, take some time to rest in the goodness of God. Know that he can take your pain and anger. He makes space for our lament and the hard process of grieving. If finding his goodness involves yelling at him, he can take it. If finding his goodness involves weeping and sorrow, he can take it. If finding his goodness involves sitting in your favorite chair and reading his Word, he can take it. Our God is bigger than us and more loving than we can know. Find a way to rest in this knowledge.
• Talk about your loved one. Whether with family or friends, talk about those you’ve lost and your favorite memories with them. I have found that in grief the memories have become so much sweeter. Even talking about the new memories made after the loss can be healing, especially if you ask yourself how your lost loved one might have reacted.
• Ask for help. Help in grief doesn’t look the same for everyone. You may need to experiment to find a source of comfort. Maybe that means finding a new book on the topic of grief to know that you are not alone or talking to a loved one about how you are hurting. Do not suffer in silence’ those around you may not know how to be there for you, but you can tell them what you know you do need.
• Take a step. If life after loss is too heavy to think about, then just think about your next baby step. Maybe that means praying for the first time, reopening God’s Word, or just taking a shower. If you take one small baby step today, and then maybe another, you will be shocked by how much those small steps can help you find hope again.
• Talk to God. Start a conversation that doesn’t have to end. Share your small victories with him: you got out of bed, you made it through the day, you took another step in a world you never wanted to experience. God is so happy to hear from you in your joys and sorrows. He wants to wrap you up in his loving arms, especially when you’re hurting, and starting a conversation is the best first step to take.

Check out some of our books on loss to help you navigate your grief this holiday season: Hurt, Help, Hope: A Real Conversation about Teen Grief and Life after Loss, A Parent’s Guide to Walking through Grief, and Beyond the Darkness Devotional: 40 Days of Encouragement in Grief.