The death of a beloved is an amputation.

C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

There’s a 10-foot tall Christmas tree in Tustin, California for families who grieve the loss of their children to addiction. It’s put there yearly by Solace of Hope, a family support group for grieving parents. The tree is filled with ornaments and photos of the many lives lost far too soon to the damnable plague of opioids.

Alan Berkowitz and his wife Kathy lost their 26-year old son to heroin six years ago.

The toughest part for my wife and me is Christmas morning. Now it’s just the two of us. We get up and have coffee. And, well, it’s kind of hollow.”

Sandy and I share that isolating grief with the Berkowitz’s. Our Graham also became an ‘ornament on a tree’ nine Christmases ago at twenty-four. He had just completed a few months in rehab and we were happily working on getting him a flight home from Minnesota. On December 16th, word reached us he would not be coming home.

Our Christmases can still feel hollow for us too. More’s the pity because Sandy loves Christmas like no other day of the year. She can decorate to beat the band and transform any house or apartment into a glowing hearthfire of peace on earth. Fittingly, she’s a Christmas Day baby, but each year her birthday is eclipsed by a lingering shadow of grief.

I was streaming the first episode of a murder mystery which was mostly meh until the chief detective said something I immediately put in my notes app. Offering comfort to the victim’s teenage daughter he said,

“grief is love with no place to go.”

For parents like us who have lost a child at Christmas, we totally get that.

While many associate Christmas with “Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy,” (even better in Linus voice) others are further down in the Luke narrative. There’s the headline we all know and love, but then there’s the fine print:

And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, “Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (AND A SWORD WILL PIERCE THROUGH YOUR OWN SOUL ALSO), so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed.

Luke 2:34-35 (emphasis mine)

Way to bury the lede, Luke!

Years ago many older hymns were passed down through oral/auditory tradition. The First Noel is one of them, which is why The Cornish Songbook (1929), printed the first stanza as:

O well, O well, the Angels did say
To shepherds there in the fields did lay;
Late in the night a-folding their sheep,
A winter’s night, both cold and bleak.
O well, O well, O well, O well,
Born is the King of Israel.

The season of noël is, for some, a painful ordeal. From the Latin ‘natale,’ meaning “birth,” Noël feels like anything but.

For a myriad of reasons, not only loss, it instills dread and invites depression. Scrooge’s dark night of the soul resonates more deeply than his Christmas morning grace awakening in some.



His grief he will not forget; but it will not darken his heart, it will teach him wisdom

—Aragorn, Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, J. R. R. Tolkien

Sandy and I fight the good fight yearly to not get cheated out of Christmas. She still decorates and I still play the music. She wraps gifts in upscale department store fashion and I don’t. We make sure to see the lights, watch White Christmas, and sit graveside with our boy on Christmas Eve.

The two of us have found our safest place to be is with each other. We don’t do big family gatherings on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. We prefer our holidays quieter. It’s worked for us nine straight years and we don’t plan to change.

If the manger means anything, it means the Savior swaddles our sorrows. Slowly, over channels of time, the comforted begin to realize their bandwidth for moving through the hard days has increased. The sword pierces a little less. You can surprise yourself by having the wherewithal to do stuff again.

Jesus, the Resurrection and the Life, our Wisdom from heaven, has gifted us with a deeper Noël. Even in the midst of our bleak midwinter, and as a hurting world moans in unrequited protest, our grief becomes love that suddenly finds a place to go.

Joyeux Noël, beloved.


Post Author: Pasturescott

19 Replies to “oh well, noël”

      1. I heard of a little girl who at bedtime was frightened to be alone in her bedroom at night and her mother tried to calm her little darling by saying Jesus is right here with you but the little girl replied “But I need Jesus with skin!” We will be praying especially for you & Sandy Christmas Eve that you will sense Jesus is there with you two. Thank you for your authenticity that helps me so much in your writings. It’s been 37 years since Donna & I met you in Grove City, Pa. and our memories of you two are as fresh as ever. Waiting to see Jesus with skin. Love you two.

        1. My good brother, when Sandy and I reflect on our years of ministry, especially those years spent traveling, Grove City ranks up there with some of our most fulfilling experiences. You both have been a huge blessing to us for so many years and I’m humbled that you’ve remained our friends. These words are so beautiful. May our gracious Father cause his face to shine upon you in this season and may his tangible Presence fill you with peace. Merry Christmas! We love the Walters!

  1. Thank you for sharing your heart this way. I know it resonates with me and so many more. {{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{hugs}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}} to you and Sandy in this season.

  2. Praying for you both during this season of the year. May the Lord’s peace and joy fill your hearts as He cradles you in His arms.
    I shared at a Ladies Luncheon the other day the hymn story of The First Noel asking them if they knew what “noel” meant…none did. We sang the song and I shared that essentially we are singing “Happy birthday” for born is the King of Israel!
    The statement you shared about “grief being love with no place to go ” is so true. Yet, Our Savior wants to bear our grief as the hymn goes- “What a Friend we have in Jesus, All our sins and griefs to bear! What a privilege to carry ; Everything to God in prayer! ” May He sustain you each day as we look forward to His return !

    1. You remain as ever, a true blessing to our family, Beth. I thank you once again for another year of faithful reading and sharing your own good thoughts of God and his ways. What a Friend is Jesus, indeed! Merry Christmas to y’all and may he bring heaven to earth for you in this season of Noel!

  3. Thank you for using your gift even in grief to give God’s comfort to those who feel no joy. You both are precious to your Father, and all of creation groans with you, longing for deliverance from the curse that fills this world with pain. May God whisper through the shouts of the season true comfort, and yes, joy.
    You are loved.

    1. Kimberly, you’ve given us a wonderful gift this season. Sandy and I will treasure these words of support and comfort long past the Christmas season. Thank you for sharing your beautiful heart of love with us and know that we love you and your entire family! You yourself are intimately acquainted with pain and have chosen the path of joy. Bless you there and may you be ever kept in Christ’s consolations!

  4. Scott many prayers for you and Sandy this Christmas as I know you miss Graham so very much. I love your writing and look forward to your next entry. You truly have a gift. Much love to you and Sandy.

    1. Our dear Vonda, you’ve no idea how precious your words are. Thank you for allowing me the privilege of speaking into your life. I do not take that lightly! You are quite loved and bring such joy to our hearts. Merry Christmas to you and your entire amazing family!

    2. Vonda, I saw your comment but it disappeared because the server did something goofy and erased it. It erased my reply also… Anyway, here’s the gist of what I responded to you: You bring such joy to our hearts, Vonda! Thank you for your loving words, dear one. We’re not too shabby for an old couple are we? Lol, love to you and the family!

  5. Watching the two of you drive hours to keep your family tradition with Graham made me hope those in heaven can see what we are doing. I knew it would touch Graham, as it did all of us, that the two of you remember, take comfort in, and still honor those sweet memories with him. Thank you for showing us how to grieve without denying our pain and still somehow still live out the hope we say we believe. So much love to you both… always and forever!

    1. Aside from God’s grace I don’t know how we would have made it through this long season without the ministry of Christ’s consolation through you and Alan. You’ve been far and above the friends we’ve needed and we treasure being intertwined with you. A threefold cord cannot be broken in true fellowship. From holding Sandy up in Minnesota (you know) to keeping watch over Graham’s grave while we are away, and everything in between, thank you. We love you guys.

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