Embracing grief to find joy

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices …

I love the hymn “O Holy Night.” Whenever I hear it at Christmas, it hugs my heart. Perhaps this year … a little bit more.

It’s a bit after 5 a.m. I’m sitting at my kitchen table in my comfy pajamas, drinking my coffee, and listening to Christmas music. This happens as soon as the Thanksgiving dishes are put away. I love me some Christmas hymns.

I’m holding tight to my coffee cup. I close my eyes, and I pray, “Lord, let me feel joy in the midst of my grief.”

“O Holy Night” is a hymn that my friend, Barb, sang every Christmas at the Nazarene Church when we were growing up and then while raising our families. Trust me when I say that no one sang it like Barb.

When Barb passed away from leukemia a few months ago, grief gripped my heart. I would be going about my day, and a memory would enter my mind. Soon, the tears would trickle down my cheeks. Memories tend to do just that.

A heart that holds great love holds great grief.

Nothing beckons grief like the holidays. The empty chair. The gift is no longer under the tree with a tag, “To Barb.” Yes, my friend is no longer singing the song here at church.

So where do I find joy in the midst of such great grief?

Joy is found in the glimmer of memories during the holidays. You see, while praying to feel joy, I realized that it is in the memories that I find both grief and joy.

Barb, her sister Kathy, and I were more like sisters than friends. Our kids thought they were cousins. So much joy, yet because of that joy, there is much grief.

As I sit here at the kitchen table, I begin to think about the memories and realize grief is a gift. If we did not share so much joy with someone, there would not be the great grief.

Every year Chuck Leonard shares a woodworking project with his family and friends. This year it’s a tree. It reminds us to always look for the glimmer of joy which are found in our memories. (Photo provided by Janet Hart Leonard)

Grief is love with no place to go unless I embrace it. I embrace it because of the memories. I laugh as I remember our kids’ antics. We had to have them sit in the front row while we sang, as they knew every song and would sing with us … LOUDLY. The Three of His would become the Three of His with six backup singers.

Every memory is like a glimmer, a glimmer that love was in the details of those memories.

Back in the day, we should have had shares in Pizza Hut stock, given all the pizza we consumed after practicing for our parts in the church services. We not only sang; Barb was the choir director, Kathy the pianist, and I the organist. As I have said before, we could name that hymn in five notes. Our kids would say we could even preach.

So here I sit on this snowy, wintry morning, wiping tears and allowing the memories to hug my heart. My heart is weary, yet it feels joy in the memories. It’s as if the words, A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices become a balm to my weary heart.

I smile as I remember sitting in the basement, which we called the catacombs, at the little Nazarene Church at Tenth and Grant Streets, when Barb, Kathy, and I were little girls. God brought us into each other’s lives. He gave us not only the love of music but also voices to share with others the love that God revealed in a tiny baby whom Mary named Jesus.

Because of God’s love for us, we have the hope of being together again in Heaven. There lies the thrill of hope. No matter how weary your heart is this Christmas, look for the glimmers in your memories. It is there that you will find your joy.

Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we, let all within us praise His holy name …

Janet Hart Leonard can be contacted at janethartleonard@gmail.com or followed on Facebook or Instagram (@janethartleonard). Visit janethartleonard.com.