“to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion— to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.” (Isaiah 61:2b-3a NIV)

     My best Christmas memory could also be my most difficult. It was Christmas of 2014. On July 4th that year my son was taken from us when the motorcycle he was driving was hit by a young man who accidentally ran a red light.

     We struggled as we prepared for the Christmas season. Buying gifts for each other and our family seemed to be a good distraction for my husband and I. Our daughter had always wanted an electric guitar, so we bought her one. My husband had always wanted to learn how to play the bass, so I secretly bought him a bass. For our little grandson, a child’s cajon. My only request was to learn how to play the cajon. Somewhere in the process of purchasing all of these musical instruments I realized that God was showing us how He was taking the pain of our loss and making music. Jesus was giving us the beauty of music as we gave Him the ashes of our pain.

     Sometime during the holiday season, God impressed upon me a strong desire to purchase a basket filled with snacks that were some of my son’s favorites; this was to be delivered Christmas morning to the young man who had hit our son. I just knew God wanted us to do this; why, I didn’t know. I also didn’t know just how much peace I would experience through this simple act.

     Even through the pain of loss, this was a most precious Christmas.