December 26th, 7 something-ish in the morning....

The leftover food had been put away, the wrapping paper had been collected for recycling, all of the dishes had been washed, all of the toys picked up, and the ornaments that had become projectiles had been re-hung on the tree.

My house was completely quiet.

I brewed a cup of coffee, sat outside on the porch, and cried.

I cried because this Christmas was such a real reminder that our human experience is one of emotional highs and emotional lows.

This year's Christmas felt very different from previous ones. There was an undercurrent of sadness that weaved through the laughter and holiday music. Plans had to be changed and rearranged.

Two of my kids were absent from Christmas celebrations with me this year. My youngest son could not come over due to COVID. He was not feeling well. The gift of staying in bed all day was what he wanted from Santa Claus. My oldest daughter…I never heard from her. I really wish I knew what was going on.

Empty chairs at the table ached with the absence of loved ones.

And then there were the tears that visited me this morning. Not the happy kind that can come with unwrapping the perfect gift, but the quiet, heartbroken kind that welled up in my eyes like I was carrying a burden heavier than fruitcake.

I really wanted to be happy, cheerful, and joyful. And there was plenty to celebrate.

Was I not being thankful for people who made special efforts to hang out? Was I forgetting so many thoughtful gifts given and received? Was I forgetting the fun and laughter that we were able to share?

Yes, these are all whispers of joy that remind me that even in the midst of sadness, there are blessings to be received.

But I also know that sadness is part of the human experience, too. My tears are a reminder that I am a whole person. My tears reveal to me my deep longings, my love, my care, and my full range of emotions. I don’t need to try to make my tears go away. I don’t need to ask for the receipt so that I can take them back to the store and exchange them for something else. No, I should keep them. I need to keep them.

Christmas isn’t always about shiny ornaments, overflowing plates of food, and getting everything you asked Santa Claus for. It isn't always picture-perfect and doesn’t always end like a Hallmark movie.

Sometimes, Christmas is about finding solace in the quiet corners, in the shared emotions, and in the time spent together.

Sometimes, it's about holding onto the tiny sparks of joy that light up the darkness, like the twinkling lights in my front yard.

And sometimes, Christmas is about finding joy in a gift of tears.