Braving Christmas Alone

“I’ll wait to open gifts,” I said to myself as large flakes drifted downward. “First, the trail along the river.” Because there’s nothing more magical on Christmas morning than following a river while white, fluffy stuff swirls every which way from the leaden skies.

It’s now past noon as I write this. My first Christmas not with family. Five years ago this month, I had head surgery. My husband whisked me away to a nearby mountain resort village for a blissful healing time, even though he was dealing with cancer and the side effects of wretched chemo. We packed food for a simple Christmas dinner, a two-foot tree decked in tiny white lights, and a couple gifts.

Seeking the One Who Can Heal

We didn’t know it would be our last Christmas together.

Ever since stumbling into widowhood, I’ve wanted to return to SunRiver Village on this holy day. Because when I do things alone that I’ve only ever done with my husband, I come away a little more resilient.

This was the year it happened.

Before layering up against the weather this particular Christmas morning, I watched a short video sent by a friend. It depicted the nativity story from the vantage point of a shepherd with a lame foot. The lad had presented one of his lambs to a religious leader in the small village of Bethlehem. Loudly berated for bringing a less-than-perfect animal, the young man was turned away and his fellow shepherds distanced themselves from his disgrace.

On his own in the crowded marketplace, the shepherd bumped into a dusty traveler with a very pregnant wife on a donkey. “Do you know where I can find water for my wife?” the traveler asked.

The lame shepherd held out his recently-filled water pouch, offering a drink to the thirsty young woman. This herder-of-sheep had no way of knowing he’d just provided refreshment to the girl who was chosen to give birth to the Messiah.

That night, after a visitation from a choir of stunning angels, the shepherds ran down the hillside toward town, looking for the Promised Child. The disabled lad tried to keep up, breathing heavily and struggling with a foot that pained him, a foot that wouldn’t fully cooperate.

And then… running with a slight limp.

And then—wonder of wonders!—he tossed aside his crutch and ran in full strength after his comrades.

The shepherds found the stable where the child lay in a feeding trough. The once-crippled herder-of-sheep held baby Jesus, wonder radiating from his face. He knew, because of the angels’ astonishing announcement, that this was the long-awaited Messiah who would be the perfect Lamb as the ultimate atonement for all mankind’s sins.

Seven hundred years before the fictitious lame shepherd found an infant lying in a manger, the prophet Isaiah spoke of this baby:

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given … and he shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6).

I’m Not Braving Christmas Alone

As I sit here on Christmas Day—completely alone—I realize I’m that shepherd with the injury, with the hurt and sorrow. And I’ve been reminded, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people.”

And so I toss my crutch aside and run toward my Savior who is the only One able to heal broken places.

My time of intentional solitude this Christmas has not only been a brave-making venture, but also the opportunity to be still and reflect on all that’s unfolded these past couple years.

My current life as a widow is full. God is my Counselor. My protector on road trips, on high trails in the wilderness, while living without another human being in the house. My provider of food and shelter and clothing. My companion, offering unexplainable peace.

Even though no other human is with me on this holy day of celebration, I’m not lonely. And I’m not really alone. Because the Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace is here with me.

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Life isn’t perfect—it can be lonely and cruel. But just like in this story, Jesus’ presence makes it better. Listen to this podcast episode and learn how to discover unending hope in your relationship with him: The Beauty of Our Imperfect Lives with Jesus – 209