Peace of the blue variety

At the start of Advent, my sister gave me a book, A Weary World: Reflections for a Blue Christmas by Kathy Escobar. I don't remember when I first learned the term "Blue Christmas," apart from when Elvis used it in a song long ago, but last year my church held a Blue Christmas service on the night of the winter solstice for those of us whose holiday spirit was dampened by any aspect of grief or loneliness or fear or depression or [fill in the blank for anything apart from the traditional spirit of Ho-Ho-Ho]. It was a beautiful service, one with meaning that has stayed with me. Little did we know then what would be coming in 2020 on a personal and corporate level. I'm glad now that I have had this book with me for these four weeks.

In one of the readings for this week, Escobar offers words on peace. Peace in blue times is worth gold. I remember many years ago, in the days and weeks after losing a baby halfway through a pregnancy, the words of peace from Jesus in the book of John are what got me through, minute by minute. I would repeat over and over again to myself, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give as the world gives." While a part of me questions why I should include that sad little story here now during Advent, I'll let it stand because so many of us have had one loss or another in recent months, and a word of the peace of Christ, an outcome of Advent and all that followed, is never more relevant than in such times.

Here are some of Escobar's words about peace. Maybe if you are having a Blue Christmas, you will find them helpful. Even if you're not having a holiday of any sort of blue, I hope that you will still find this encouragement toward peace to be a helpful and worthwhile read:

"For me, one of the most compelling images of peace in chaos is a tree in a winter storm—harsh and cold winds whipping through, yet still rooted; battered, bruised, its branches starkly stripped of leaves but somehow still standing, planted into the earth, gathering an unexplainable strength from the Source. Surviving, enduring, living despite it all.

Peace doesn't mean our circumstances will change.

Peace doesn't mean our hearts are completely still and settled.

Peace doesn't mean we don't still weep or wail or feel afraid.

Peace means that in the middle of the storm we can be strengthened by God, by something bigger than us, by the comfort and presence of the Holy Spirit, the Prince of Peace—and that we can be rooted, grounded, and tethered in the midst of chaos."