Hope for the Holidays

Here’s a given: the holidays are here. Between the glow of homes lit up from the inside out and the sounds of merry-making echoing throughout, it’s hard to imagine the joy of the season losing its luster on anyone. But it does. For many, these can be the darkest of days. I’m thinking of those carrying grief, wading through a depressive slog, or overwhelmed by a set of seemingly insurmountable circumstances. Shorter days only exacerbate those burdens, and well-intended promises of this too shall pass can feel more like nails on a chalkboard than the ring of truth. In this place, it’s hard to imagine life anew. And then, when you least expect it, something reminds you the world hasn’t stopped, and the blessing of hope is always there.

This poem speaks to heavy hearts with a gentleness I believe even the bleakest spirits can receive:

Joy Waits Quietly

There are seasons
when the light feels far away,
when every step forward
is heavy with the weight
of what has been lost
or left behind.

Yet even then,
joy waits quietly,
not as laughter that fills a room,
nor as celebration that demands attention,
but as a soft pulse
beneath the ache.

Joy is not the denial of sorrow;
it is its companion,
walking beside us
through the shadowed valleys,
reminding us
that beauty still flickers
at the edges.

May we learn to see it,
to trust its presence,
and let it guide us
like a lantern
through the darker times,
steady,
gentle,
and true.
(Mary Anne Byrne)