Sunday 25 December 2011

Christmas: The Good, The Bad and The... Miracle...

Every year I am struck by the potential that Christmas has for being, in Dickens' words, the very "best of times and the worst of times". 
Whilst my natural inner cynic appreciates the odd bah humbug (and my mind's eye smiles affectionately as it casts over little blueprints of those I recall as I write), I cannot help but to be somehow drawn by the magic and sparkle that fans of Christmas sprinkle so liberally around the Western world.
As the festive season unravels, the dreariness of Winter is peeled further and further back as twinkling warmth unfolds and rests over the all too familiar landscapes in our lives. 
Strings of  lights glow warm on trees and houses, and people nod more; smile more; allow more.
Displays hark back to richly coloured illustrations of rosy cheeked, Victorian children gathered around candlelit fir trees.
And the world is in soft focus, with a gentle sepia overlay.


Until, 
that is, 
you turn on the news to hear about more bombs, more earthquakes, more famine, more drought, more human suffering than can be held in one heart.
And that's just the stuff on the radio.
Then there are all those that you know who are facing their first, second, third (and on..) Christmas without loved ones; grief gnawing away at brave faces, determined to make it bearable.
There are the many (so, so many) for whom the contrast of the magical Christmas atmosphere only serves to bring the agony of their own personal pain into unbearably sharp focus. Grief made more raw, bitterness more  acid, longing more weighty, loneliness more solitary, and heavy sadness more piercing.
I don't want to be a party pooper... I can actually be the life and soul of one given half a chance, but perhaps because I've been there myself, I can't help but feel like writing a miserable letter to Slade as the line "everybody's having fun" streams from the radio 


And then there is the real meaning of it all.
Which we miss, so easily... Lost amid the bright gold curling ribbon and the strewn wrapping and the glossy metallic bows and gift tags. 
How did we manage to turn it into something so loud that it can drown the cry of a newborn?


If you are the sort who believes in the miracle of Christmas, as am I, you'll probably agree that sometimes it's hard to remember that all the gifts and the glitz aren't really a celebration of US at all.
It's really all about the fact that a child was given to the world. Divine, and yet human.
No. I can't get my head round it either.


Today is a hard day for anorexics too. Food and drink dictate the day.


This year I asked God for a miracle for Christmas.
Or should I say, ANOTHER miracle.
I asked him to take the illness away.


Miracles do happen.
There is much evidence to show that they have always happened.
Without wanting to sound ham, I do believe. 
I will wait. 


Wishing anyone who passes here a merry Christmas, full of the warmth of meaning.
And if you are one of the struggling, I wish you peace and hope you can somehow take heart from the fact that it's a couple of days out of so many. And they are more painful, so much more. But you will survive them and the rawness will be soothed. I promise.
Take heart.

6 comments:

  1. Hello Love - your words touch me so deeply. You are the very essence of hope, truth, promise and faith. I so admire you and love you. Merry Christmas
    Love Gail
    peace.....

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  2. You write amazingly well. You have a gift. I have been following your site for a while and a fellow mental illness sufferer myself I spent many time in hospitals and befriended a lot of people who struggled with anorexia. I know their suffering well and I am inspired by your growth and the ability and hope you have to move forward and get past this. I want to wish you good luck on your journey and all the best!

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  3. Merry Christmas to you as well. Maybe we turn it loud so we can't hear that cry. I know I do it in my own life but for the reason so I can't hear myself cry. I believe in miracles too. Thank you for the reminder of possibilities. I am praying for a mircale for you too...

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  4. Hey, friend.

    Merry X.
    Also Merry NY.

    And just in case I occasionally come across cross? It's not you, my friend. It's the AoD.

    AND I know you'll read this from inside whichever 'you' you're inside.

    But. Well. Thinking of you. Rooting for you. Hoping you make it. Still holding on to hope for you.

    Still on the side of the you I know.

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  5. MIracles do happen! They really do. They did to me and they will to you. Nothing worked to free me....I couldn't get free....But one day...He turned on the Light....and made the difference.It's not that things got better all at once....but I had hope and that hope turned to faith and that faith eventually turned to freedom. WS.....you're a fighter and the best I believe He's in your corner and holding you and won't ever let go.

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  6. Jesus freed me. I thank God. I had tried other religions, but then someone talked to me about Jesus, and I finally listened. Complete victory over my fear took time, but the difference is astounding now that the fear is gone. It had been debilitating.

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