holiday shame

As the holiday season approaches, I feel a weird pressure from our culture to be festive and happy. I’m calling it holiday shame.

Sure, we all can find something to be thankful for as the turkey and dressing are passed around, and most Christians would nod and agree that Jesus is the reason for the season when we deck the halls and place the gifts under the tree.

But some of us may be pushing through the festivities and celebration, concealing our doubt, anger, broken hearts, and questions. We look at our Facebook friends,

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My father is elderly. The one who took me to get my driver’s license can no longer drive his own car. His vision is dimming and so is his hope. He is in a care facility hoping to build up strength to go home, but that may not happen.

How do you parent your parent?

My brother and I are navigating this journey with heavy hearts. We saw it coming, yet feel like he was buying us Twinkies and Dr. Pepper at Mills River Grocery just yesterday.

My relationship with my father was what it was.

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If we had only known

Hiding is not hard; wearing an “I’m okay” mask is easily done. It’s especially easy to fool each other when we rarely take time to truly know each other anyway.

Someone’s story ended today, only partially lived. I didn’t know his story just like I didn’t know my neighbor’s story a few years back when he too tragically decided that death would be easier than life.

I didn’t know because I didn’t ask.

My heart breaks for a family today. This kind of loss is especially hard to comfort because we just didn’t know.

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