Holiday Blues & a True Christmas Miracle
(P.S. For my Brazilian readers, the expression “feeling blue” in English means feeling down or sad, while in Portuguese it is the very opposite.) This is a longer essay, but I hope you will take the time to read it because it describes a Christmas miracle, I have been waiting for 27 years.
Since 1996, every year, Christmas has been a time of depression, anxiety, and deep sorrow, which worsened after Danny’s death. Dreading the red and green lights, the colorful Christmas trees, and the good-old holiday cheers, I focused on surviving the holidays. This year, however, I approached God with a vulnerable heart and a deep desire for a renewed perspective. I prayed for a radical change within my heart and a renewed perspective, regarding the holidays and depression. In quiet prayer, my soul urged God for genuine and transformational healing, from deep within me.
As the holidays approach, many are confronted with a mix of joy and sorrow, often feeling the weight of lost loved ones or unmet expectations: this has been a struggle of mine since 1996, which worsen after Danny’s death. This year, however, I found myself exhausted by the yearly-dreadful anxiety, caused by deep sorrows carried on from my past: an unwanted and toxic Christmas tradition, adopted by my broken heart. This post is not a continuation of such pattern; it is, instead, one of astonishment and celebration of a beautiful Christmas gift!
The Christmas season of 2024 surprised me with a true Christmas miracle! My emotional, physical, and spiritual exhaustion have been lifted, and my prayer request, of many years, has been granted! This year, instead of allowing sadness to overshadow the celebrations of God’s perfect gift, that is Jesus Christ, I chose to surrender my sorrows, traumas, and deep-seated depression to God. The tiredness and emptiness once within my soul were transformed into hope and true rest! I became aware of God’s gentle reminder that even in my darkest moments, the Holy Spirit invites me to find light in cherished memories. My spirit, my soul, and my body were embraced by the Love of God: the most beautiful, powerful, and impactful kind of love one can experience. I have always known ABOUT the love of Jesus, who sacrificed His life to save mine; however, this knowledge was replaced by the transformational touch of God’s all-embracing, absolutely-perfect, and never-failing Love. His love is the reflection of the very nature of God! What a gift we have been given! Alleluia!
I want to thank you for your prayers, asking God to replace my sadness for the joy of Christ. I am happy to announce that after years of Holiday Blues, I find myself praising the Lord…and even singing Christmas songs. I will give a quick overview and reasoning for my Grinch-like past attitude. It was December 17, 1996, at age 17, when my childhood ended. I lost my father, my only source of love, protection, and security. That day, my role as a daughter and sister was forever changed. I was given an unofficial position as the head of the household, acting as my mother’s mother. Reluctantly, both my mother and I struggled with such toxic circumstances. I was forced to organize my father’s funeral, visit with the police, and claim my father’s body from the morgue because my mother was unable to take charge of these responsibilities. Regarding the context of that December day, in Curitiba, the weather was warm, as a hot summer day, and the city looked like a tropical winter wonderland. The paradoxical relationship between the summer-like weather versus the Christmas decorations all around the city mirrored the conflict within my heart, at that time. Celebrating Christmas in Brazil looks like celebrating Christmas in a tropical winter wonderland. The decorations attempted to convoke the feeling of cold temperatures, unique to the winter, in the U.S. Similarly, my emotions, feelings of loss, and my grief conflicted with the joy of Christmas. My heart was overtaken by grief, while the world around me celebrated the holidays.
Next, I will clarify the reason for my long-lasting Grinch-like attitude towards the holiday season. Just a few days before my father’s death in 1996, he asked me about my mother’s whereabouts. At that time, my mother was having a relationship with another man, which the whole world knew about it, except for my father. She had taken my sister to see that man. I did not want to lie to my father, as much as I did not want to tell him about my mother’s affair. So, after he asked where she was, I avoided my father by living him alone in the living room. Without reflecting, my father spoke the words that would hunt me for years! He said, “one day, you will want to speak with me, but I will no longer be around, and you will for the opportunity you have today. Little did we know that such day was only one week away, when he died on December 17, 1996.
At that time, our financial world had collapsed. It had been the very worst time of our lives, that far! After a long period of financial wealth, owning our home, an apartment in one of Brazil’s most prestigious beaches, a large farm raising cattle, more cars than we had people to drive, and I even had my personal collection of horses. We had shifted from such wealth into homelessness, selling even the smallest of furniture. We lived in a cabin-like wooden little house, without a working bathroom, or a kitchen. This shantytown-like little house did not have a closed ceiling. The roof of the house did not connect completely, allowing leaves and rain to drop inside, based on the direction of the wind. To make the situation even more unbearable, there was a fox living on the roof…right above my bed. It would pee, dropping the urine right on my bed. There was no space in the little house to move my bed to another location. Needless to say, these were horrific times; however, the worst came a week later my interaction with my father. Filled with guilt, I believed to be a terrible daughter by making him to feel rejected! It important to note that I no longer believe or feel this way. Every year since, I punished myself by relieving such horrible memories (on top of other even worse memories I will not mention here.)
A quick overview about the death of my father: suffering a stroke, my father collapsed on the foundation of the house we were slowly constructing to escape the shantytown little house. My grandparents, on my mother side, found my father laying on the ground. Because they were going to my grandmother’s doctor appointment, they chose not to save my father. My grandfather later apologized. I do not have bad feelings towards them, whom I loved dearly; however, if this situation took place in the United States, my grandparents would have had been in legal trouble…serious legal trouble. Not feeling well, my father walked from his car, leaving it on, and the driver’s door opened. My grandparents rushed to call the neighbor, asking her to contact my mother, who was on the other side of our huge town!
The neighbor told my mother to come home to help my father. My mother took a cab and travelled across the city to help my father. The city of Curitiba resembles New York City. It is way too big to drive around as the only source of help to save my father’s life. When she arrived home, with the help of the taxi driver, she placed my father’s body in the cab’s backseat, where she held my father’s head within her arms. At that time, he was breathing; however, he died in her arms, inside of the cab. I will be eternally grateful for tat taxi driver! He was kind and patient, driving my mother to several locations, including the morgue. The taxi driver did not accept payment for the taxi service. I can only imagine how traumatizing this situation was for him. These are examples that illustrate some of the reasons for my Grinch-like attitude towards the holidays; since then, the holiday season gained a different tone. In essence, this assay and the events described within it are examples, reflections, and illustrations of a much greater picture that is my life: a complex and multifocal journey where I am given daily opportunities to rewrite the story of my life. While finding empowerment as a decisions maker and learning how to best play the cards life dealt to me.
Personally, I have chosen God to be my very source of my life: He is the hope in my despair, the light within the darkness, and the power to walk a journey of resilience. Throughout my life, I have consistently chosen God as the beginning, the midpoint, and the end of my life journey—the day when I walk through the gates of heaven! What an amazing gift it is to follow Jesus when walking through the valley of suffering, climbing the mountains of undiscovered dreams, and crossing the oceans of despair. God has taken me through speedy highways, as well as through unexpected back roads of life. He saved me from death, when all I experienced was despair; in Him, my soul was made full of joy, when sorrow was all, I could find on my own. My creator connected all the milestones of my life: from my very first breath, each step in midway, all the way until my very last act in the theater of life. Living a life of purpose, I look forward to meeting my creator! Not with suicidal ideation, but with excitement of a face-to-face relationship!
My experiences with suffering are highlighters of the progression of my life journey. They both, influence and illustrate my relationship with God and suffering. Each event of pain tells a story of resilience and highlights God’s never-failing rescuing! God has healed my heart from the trauma I experienced during the holidays, throughout my life. As I wrote this essay, I looked back directly into the eyes of my 17-year-old-self and remembered all the traumatic experiences that once brought tears to eyes. Today, however, for the very first time in 27 years, I did not relieve the pain—again and again! Alleluia, instead, I saw a huge smile staring back at me! Not a forced smile, but an honest and peaceful smile that was born from deep within soul! Furthermore, I sang holiday songs with joy, and I added Christmas decorations to my house! What a change!
Today, I celebrate life! In this year’s Christmas day, I will celebrate the birth of Christ, and I will honor those I’ve lost by sharing stories and laughter with friends and family. If my heart waves, I will choose to remember that God has been my father before the day I was fatherless. Furthermore, I will remember that God has a been husband to me: my provider, protector, and defender! Events such as the ones described in this essay are now reminders of God’s nature, always faithful in rescuing me! Pain and suffering are not a measurement of faith; they are sources of empowerment! I choose purpose for my pain. I want it to transcend the boundaries of personal misery to spread hope! It is my desire to lead a life, where my stories are modern-day parables, used by God to teach, inspire, and save lives from suicide attempts!
Luciane Hawkins
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