Our Empty Chairs

The holidays are always hard for those who have lost loved ones. One such Christmas for us was in 2010. My wife's parents were with us for a few weeks. They were becoming feeble and we wanted to spend some precious time with them. That was the last Christmas my father in law celebrated, as he died the following August. My mother in law has lost much of her memory and is in a nursing home. In addition my mother was with us. She had lost her husband of 28 years. It was a special Christmas, and a hard one.

Christmas is such a time of reflection, joy, and tears. That Christmas my mom was missing her husband. We were missing our son. It's hard to know how to approach the holidays when your heart is heavy with loss. One way to face the holidays is to give in to the grief. I know it doesn't sound wise, but especially when grief is fresh and raw it may be healthy to just weep and mourn through the season. If that is what you need to do, there's no need to apologize. It is probably therapeutic to shed the tears God has given you. It won't be this way forever, but that's the way it is now.

We are reminded of our losses when we see the empty chairs around the table as we gather to eat. I’m not sure the chairs are really empty, though. There, in the place of our loved ones, are thousands of memories stored away in our minds. Those memories are unlocked at surprising times and we recall things that we’d forgotten. Just strands of thoughts about some happening, something someone said, or some smell…some song. Memories are beautiful gifts that we find along our way.

As a Christian I do not believe those chairs are empty at all. My Abba has promised that He will walk with me through the valley of the shadow of death. Sometimes I get to thinking that this life is all there is. My sorrows paint the canvas of my life with blue tones and dark images. Good thing I’m not the Artist of my soul. He is making something beautiful and one day I will see it in completion. Until then, I cannot count the tears that have run across my cheeks – but He can. So I trust Him with my hurt and I also accept from Him gifts of joy and peace and contentment.

I am not pretending that this solves the big questions of life and heart. I am not sure I need to solve those mysteries. I really just have today. I’ll spend it loving the people surrounding me. One day my chair will be empty too. But not really. In my place will be memories that I’ll make today with people that are here …that I love.

The sorrow that lies just under the surface cannot keep me from having a Merry Christmas. Because the chairs are not really empty.