Surviving the holidays part 3/4: So this is Christmas

At the risk of alienating myself from 99% of my readers, I admit I cannot stand the Beatles. They grate on my ears worse than Alvin and the Chipmunks. I don’t think they—or Neil Diamond—should ever have been allowed to record anything.

(Barry Manilow is a close third.)

But when my 12-year old smiled up at me with his precious freckles and asked for Rock Band Beatles Edition for Christmas, I couldn’t resist.

Soon after, the radio began playing John Lennon’s So This is Christmas. Over. And over. And over again. Through the grating noise, one particular phrase stood out to me at the end of that song:

Let’s hope it’s a good one
Without any fear
War is over

If you want it
War is over
Now…

I’m assuming if you read this blog, you’ve survived abuse or perinatal mood disorders, or both. If you’re like me, you slog through residual effects of it all, but the “war” itself “is over.”

The holidays–full of emotions and stress–stir up those after-effects for many folks.

In the previous two blogs of this series, I talked about ways to help yourself feel safe by starting your own traditions (part 1), and how to find joy in the season (part 2). But those posts didn’t address the overriding emotion of most survivors: fear.

Like the mashed potatoes at our Thanksgiving, fear is a bottomless bowl. I come back for seconds. And thirds. I turn the leftovers into potato pancakes and Shepherd’s pie.

And still, there’s more leftover.

In literal terms, I fear running into an abuser; having a panic attack while singing with my church choir; the perpetual–yet elusive–feeling something bad is about to happen.

It’s enough to make me want to hide under my bed for the next two weeks. With my dog. And my teddy bear.

Still, I long to have a very merry Christmas.

And a happy New Year.

I hope 2010’s a good one.

Without any fear.

 I found some hope, as Mary must have so long ago, in the words the angel spoke to her, when she learned she was going to become pregnant. Here is a brief excerpt from The Message version of the Christmas story, Luke 1:29-38:

She was thoroughly shaken. . .  But the angel assured her, “Mary, you have nothing to fear . . .  Nothing, you see, is impossible with God.”

I wonder if Mary knew the angel’s encouragement would be as—if not more—important as she watched her baby boy grow up. As she watched him learn. As she watched him craft with His hands the same wood from which He’d hang.

Talk about fear.

Watching your Son, the Promised One, die.

Did the thought, “Nothing is impossible with God” even cross her mind as she lay weeping on the top of Golgotha?

Time and time again I find myself at the top of a Golgotha of fear.

Yet each time, God rolls the stone away and restores parts of me I thought could never be whole.

Brings to life another small piece of my shattered heart.

Whispers to me on cold, bleak mornings, “Dear child, do not be afraid. For I am with you always.”

Lord, thank You for being with us this Christmas season and always. Pierce through the fear in our lives. Instill within us the peace and confidence that comes from Your constant presence. And thank you, Jesus, for coming to earth to do these things for each of us–even the person reading this right now. Amen.