"I myself taught them to walk. I took them in my arms;
Yet they have not understood that I was the one looking after them.
I lead them with reins of kindness, with leading strings of love
I was like someone who lifts an infant close against his cheek,
Stooping down to him I gave him his food."
Hosea, 11:3-5
Dear Friend,
May the blessing of Christ be with you this Advent. And may His healing presence comfort you as you prepare for your second Christmas and the New Year’s without your loved one.
The above words from Hosea inspire a true understanding of the love that God has for each of us. The language of parental love—the images of our Eternal Father teaching us to walk, taking us in his arms, and leading us with “reins of kindness” and “strings of love” are comforting.
This is not your first Christmas absent from the physical presence of your loved one. And sadly, it will not be your last. You know already that holidays are both joyful and painful—that the waves of grieving are more likely to come during times of shared memory. You know to “make time for grief in your life,” during the holidays and to give your loved one “a place at the table,” actually or figuratively, at Christmas and New Years. But you may not yet know fully God’s love for you in this time of sorrow.
Perhaps that’s because in grief, it can be difficult to feel the Lord carrying us, almost impossible to imagine the God of the Old Testament holding us close to his cheek. And yet, the passage from Hosea is clear. The Creator not only holds us tenderly close to his cheek, but stoops down to give us our food—in the gentle way a mother or father feeds a little child when he or she is hungry.
And we are hungry—hungry for the presence of our loved ones, for their touch, for a meal shared, familiar footsteps or smiles, a knock at the door, a voice at the other end of the phone. Hosea prophesies the Bread of Life God gives to each of us—the “food from heaven which comforts us in our afflictions.”
At Christmas time, with the focus on the birth of the Christ-child, it may be particularly helpful to meditate on the images of the Holy Family—the images of a father and mother far from home, giving birth to the Savior of the world in a stable, surrounded by the cold night and the braying of a donkey.
Imagine the mother of Jesus holding him close to her cheek, feeding him life-saving sustenance, keeping him warm. Imagine gentle Joseph teaching the Christ-child to walk, carrying him in his arms, protecting him from harm. And imagine, later, how Mary and Jesus took care of Joseph in his final illness. And how much they missed him every day and every holiday after that.
This Christmas and New Years, see if you can’t hold Hosea’s images of God’s love for you close to your heart. Try to know with your intellect and feel with your heart that you are ‘beloved of God,’ as is your departed loved one. The true meaning of Christmas is light in the darkest night, hope when all seems hopeless, and healing when we least expect it. Glory be to God in the highest, and peace to his people, and your people, here on earth.
May the Christ-Child and his Abba comfort you this season—and fill you with healing and a sure knowledge that you are not alone—that you are beloved of God.
In Christ,
Eileen
Copyright © 2019 Eileen Geller - All Rights Reserved. The information on this website should not be relied upon for diagnosis or treatment or as a substitute for professional medical, mental health, counseling advice. Always seek the advice of your doctor or other qualified health provider or mental health professional. Thank you.
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