Comfort and Joy

“Comfort” and “Joy,” words we often associate with Christmas. But can comfort and joy coexist with loss and grief? Yes, both comfort and joy are sustaining me in this season of my life.

Following are among my sources of comfort and joy:

Grandchildren

My precious grandchildren provide so much comfort and joy during these days of transition. On the day of Jim’s celebration of life, they hugged me, and each other, tightly, shed tears, but also sang, danced, and laughed at our home following the service. The house was full of friends and family. The grandchildren found their own space to play. Their giggles floated through the house, giving me both comfort and joy.

Several days later, our six-year-old grandson came to see me. We cuddled on the sofa, his arm around me, and looked at the slide show that played during the visitation. What sweet comfort to hear him say, “I’m going to come see you a lot because you’re going to need me!” He is right. I do need him.

On the day I threw out all the dying flowers, I squealed when I saw a giant grasshopper on the table beside a floral spray. In the next moment, I realized the bug was plastic, a toy from the playroom, likely put there on purpose to “prank” Glam-Glam. This tiny bit of humor while working on a difficult task made me smile and brought me joy. 

Unexpected Gifts

The day I found Jim on the floor at the top of the back stairs, I was on the way upstairs for a Zoom meeting with writing friends. After calling 9-1-1, I texted the leader of my group asking for prayer. Knowing these sweet friends were praying for me, while I navigated one of the most difficult experiences of my life, gave me comfort and courage in the hours that followed.

Days later, I received a beautiful blanket, emblazoned with the words “Faith, Hope, Love” and other words of encouragement. I sit under that blanket every night as I adjust to time in the den alone.

A neighbor left flowers at my back door after seeing Jim’s obituary in the newspaper.

Another friend crocheted a prayer square for me, which I carried during Jim’s celebration of life.

Others sent copies of the obituary.

A precious cousin surprised me with a care package. The carrier delivered if after dark on a day when all I could do was sit and stare.

A man in my church offered to paint a portrait of Jim and me. Meanwhile, he painted the flower arrangement I made last week.

All these gifts, and more, brought comfort and joy.

Family and Friends

Friends and family have been so gracious to me. I am especially thankful for my gym friends, people I see five or six days a week. Over time, gym friends become like family. We share tidbits of our lives, pray for each other, and care about what happens in each other’s lives.

My friend, Rusher, exudes joy. His smile brightens the day. He is a friend, but also a brother in Christ. We often have spiritual conversations, discussing God’s faithfulness in our lives. Today, Rusher smiled, and said, “I’m part of your healing process!” He is correct. God is using Rusher, Amy, Tracy, and others at the gym to help me maintain forward motion.

The first Sunday I was back at church, I was enveloped by my church family. I feel their continual prayers, love, and support, and treasure each expression.

Fuzzy Socks

For Christmas, Jim gave me too many presents. In fact, he shopped for all the family after I had already purchased gifts. I finally told him he needed to stop, but he came home two days before Christmas with a plaid, flannel jacket for Jay. “We’re saving this for his birthday (January 17),” I said. Jim reluctantly agreed.

On the day of Jim’s death, when Jay arrived at the house, I took him to my closet and gave him the jacket. I wish I had let Jim see his boy receive that gift, but on a very difficult day, that jacket brought comfort and joy to our son.

Among my gifts on Christmas morning were a lovely ring, a plaque of a Biblical blessing that means so much to me, a new Bible, a gift card to a favorite clothing store, pretty sweaters, soft pajamas, and SIX pairs of fuzzy socks! I struggled a little to be excited about socks I wasn’t sure I’d ever wear, but last weekend, when the temperatures dipped into the teens, those fuzzy, semi-ugly socks were a great comfort. You see, I used to put my chilly feet under Jim’s leg. Those cozy socks aren’t the same, but, during the long nights, they bring me comfort. All these gifts, that felt like too much on Christmas morning, now are cherished and enjoyed.

How is it for you? Are you finding it difficult to experience comfort and joy in your current circumstances? Does it feel like you will never regain the level of forward motion you once experienced? Take each day as it comes. Look for comfort and joy in unexpected places and with unexpected people. Trust God for next steps and allow him to be your Comforter.

“All praise goes to God, Father of our Lord Jesus, the Anointed One. He is the Father of compassion, the God of all comfort. He consoles us as we endure the pain and hardship of life so that we may draw from His comfort and share it with others in their own struggles” (2 Corinthians 1:3-4 VOICE).

©CandyArrington

Candy Arrington is a writer, blogger, speaker, and freelance editor. She often writes on tough topics with a focus on moving through, and beyond, difficult life circumstances. Candy has written hundreds of articles, stories, and devotionals published by numerous outlets including: Inspiration.org, Arisedaily.com, CBN.com, Healthgrades.com, Care.com, Focus on the Family, NextAvenue.org, CountryLiving.com, and Writer’s Digest. Candy’s books include Life on Pause: Learning to Wait Well (Bold Vision Books), When Your Aging Parent Needs Care (Harvest House), and AFTERSHOCK: Help, Hope, and Healing in the Wake of Suicide (B&H Publishing Group).

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