Wishing You a Peace-Filled Christmas

"Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas," I said to the lady at the check-out counter.  I forced a smile, feeling the irony of the words hanging in the air as I grabbed my bags and headed out to my car.  Instead of bringing joy like they normally did, these recited and all-too-prevalent words brought pain.  It was Christmastime, and I wasn't merry.  Merry means joyful, even jovial, but with my little baby about to have open heart surgery,  my heart was continually aching and worried.

I understood the proverb that there is a time and a season to everything in life.  Some Christmases are merry; some are not.  Some have the potential to break our hearts.  But I also believed that the spirit of Christmas is real--tangible--and it comes because of the Savior of the world.  I wondered how that Spirit could touch my heart this Christmas, if there seemed to be no room for joy there.

I found my answer in a few simple Christmas traditions.  With four little kids, we couldn't just do nothing for Christmas, so in a way that was a blessing.  They helped me to press on when I didn't feel I could.  The first thing we did as a family was service.  The things we did were simple, like bringing a plate of cookies to someone who was lonely, but as we did those things that we knew Jesus would do at this time of year, the most amazing miracle happened:  my heart was not troubled, even if for just a moment.  I was filled with peace.

I also found peace in leading the children in our church congregation in singing Christmas hymns.  Their angelic voices and hope-filled faces brought tears to my eyes and comfort to my soul.

The last tradition is one that I did with my own family every Christmas.  We have 25 pictures of the Savior's life and ministry, death and resurrection, and each day of December, we talk about a picture and then hang it somewhere in our house.  When my heart was heavy, I would see these pictures on the wall.  I would look into the face of my Savior and hear these words:


"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."


"These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world."


"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men!"


I left the pictures up until after J's surgery, and two of the pictures stayed up the whole year:  A picture of Mary and Martha with Jesus, and a picture of Jesus on a ship, calming the storm.  The blessings of peace I felt were so real.  In those moments, I knew that everything would work out--that even if they didn't work out the way I wanted them to and the pain seemed too great to bear, the Savior would bear my load with me, and someday, all would be made right.  This blessing of peace and assurance was the greatest gift I received last Christmas.

To all who may have a heavy heart this Christmas, for whatever reason, I wish you a peace-filled Christmas.  I know for a fact that moments of peace can come to all, in whatever circumstances, if we will seek after the One whose birth we celebrate--the Savior of the world.