By Ashlie Miller
I remember when our first Christmas ornament broke. Literally, the first ornament my husband and I received. It was either for our wedding or at Christmas, and I think my mom purchased it from a lady who was just beginning a business with painting doodle characters on ornaments and personalizing them. It was cute, and many families in our area had them. You may even have a very similar adornment on your tree today.
During the early years of our marriage, we had survived a stage 3 cancer, rocky finances (thanks in part to bills for experimental treatment not covered by insurance but effective nonetheless), and learning to communicate as a couple. We were fragile. Things felt unsteady at times. And then, the ornament – a symbol of our covenant – was broken. It hit me like, well, a ton of bricks on a glass ornament! I was certainly more emotional over evergreen decor than seemed normal, but we did not replace the shattered bauble. I learned to move on with life and realize that our marriage was much more secure than a temporal symbol.
Since then, we have had many broken ornaments. So many that we have an annual ornament hospital bin that gets attention either by me or my go-to fixer (my middle son). Usually, the ornament is salvageable with a bit of super glue or E-6000 glue. We no longer buy glass ornaments that shatter.
Many other broken things come to the surface during the holidays. No doubt, you have your own sense of woe and sadness. Cherished loved ones who have passed. Estranged relationships. Boundaries of time and distance that create difficulty in connecting with family relationships; one cannot be two places at once, and has to make a choice. Loss in other ways – jobs, health, stability in some way.
In another week, those who do not know the joy and stillness of the 12 days of Christmas leading to Epiphany will begin to experience longing, sadness, and depression as things come to an end. The gifts are given, the gatherings cease for another year, and a bleak and weary winter seems to loom (despite the sunshine on Christmas Day). Even my youngest children talk of post-Christmas blues.
Christmas is a season of hope, long after the joy has passed. Jesus appeared in a broken-down stable in a manger to one day restore the broken relationships each of us has with God. O Holy Night is a song worth revisiting, with stars (special for this momentous occasion) shining brightly amidst a world riddled with a history of “sin and error pining” since Adam and Eve’s exodus from Eden. But then, Jesus “appeared and the soul felt its worth.” Wow, “felt its worth” – do we really? The Glory of heaven left that perfect place to come redeem and restore our relationship with God. He loves us that deeply. This should do something for our identity and sense of worth. The “thrill of hope” that we no longer have to live in our brokenness can lead to our own “weary world rejoicing!”
This week, you may have more gatherings that remind you of loss and brokenness. It can take one’s breath away and even make us unable to speak or fully engage as we may have done at one time. You may have to celebrate in solitude, where once there was a houseful of celebration. But one thing has not changed: there is still a “thrill of hope” within our grasp if we can see it. Embrace that, even if quietly, amidst the broken ornaments.
