Holding Both Joy & Sorrow

I’ve been so deeply aware the last few years of holding the tension of both joy and sorrow, of the now and the not yet. Much of it coming from spending nearly one hundred days at the bedsides of people I love deeply over the last few years. Of life subsequently changing overnight. Learning more than I ever imagined about seizures, strokes, and heart conditions. While grief, lament and exhaustion are all real things to reckon with – so are joy, grace, and hope.  

Nearing the end of 2021 all I could imagine in the last few weeks of this year were slow days, rest, savoring Christmas and a bit of Texas adventure. Yet, I find myself in the Cardiac ICU praying hard (again) and caring for my baby sister as she is fighting viral pneumonia, days before Christmas.

On these same days, people I care about the most are navigating the sudden loss of a loved one, another holiday without their family, a parent battling cancer, dreams long deferred – walking through some of the hardest days we can experience as humans. There is no life without suffering, without pain or stress but I have come to believe so so very deeply that we get to choose how we walk through it all. That we can feel despair and not give into it - and clinging to hope is a very real thing.

 I’ve experienced and seen how deeply God draws close to us in the pain and in the joy. I know for certain that I could never walk through nearly one hundred days in hospitals with people I love without that grace and love.

As I look back on my story and remember the moments that infused resilience into my spirit, I am so grateful. I also wonder who I would have become without them?  If I hadn’t studied the Holocaust that summer after seventh grade at USF and met a survivor named Sam. Who as a young boy who experienced horror and yet went on to live a life with kindness and resilience – proving that it’s possible to do so. Who would I have been if I hadn’t listened to Oprah every day after school and learned about not just surviving but thriving and the power of story as I navigated a complex and difficult childhood? Most importantly who would have I become without this deep love and belief in God – even when I’ve struggled with it all because of all I’ve seen -- yet deeply always knowing I am loved.

 These pivotal moments and experiences all teaching me that you can/will suffer and still have a whole, beautiful life. That trauma, pain, loss do not have to win – even though some days surrendering to the disappointment would just be so easy.

I’ve carried those lessons into every season, when I’ve been on my knees on the hardest days to the most beautiful ones where I’ve only wanted to freeze time.

So, amidst this (yet again) unexpected Christmas, may this prayer be for both you, me and those we love – if you are navigating the tension of the now and not yet:

 May you remember that you are deeply loved and never alone.

May you know that you can walk through the hardest of days – and tomorrow a new dawn will come. It always does.

May you cling to hope when your heart is broken and never let go of your bottom of the heart dreams – they are coming soon.

May you let yourself feel the anger, the fury, the disappointment of deferred hope, of loss of dreams that haven’t come true yet – it is all part of being human, but, don’t forget to let it go.

May you savor your favorite cup of coffee, let yourself linger and listen to your favorite song, wrap yourself in the coziest of blankets while you breathe – just for a minute.

 May you feel comfort in every part of your heart that aches today.

May you, even in the tension of the now and not yet, know that you are stronger than you could ever imagine.

I wish for you – exactly what I wish for myself today – for rest, and peace and simpler days. May this Christmas remind us that hope is always present even on our hardest days.

Suzanna Hendricks