Sharing in Mary's Postpartum Depression

The holidays are full of splendor, and we share our love in so many ways.  We spend time with friends, give gifts, give to charities, smile more, wish complete strangers Merry Christmas, and share in this advent season of expectation and hope.  Much like pregnancy, there is a glow that comes in this time, and people seem friendlier, warmer.  We make plans, we prepare, we decorate and wrap and sing and bake and... then Christmas arrives!  We worship together and light our candles.  Our kids wake us up, our families meet and eat.  We were greeted this year with a white Christmas! Everything seems perfect, and we have finally arrived at that moment we have anticipated... and then it all comes crashing down. 
We realize we are tired.  Get-togethers spread germs, and we are sick.  We have messes to clean up.  We have to figure out what to do with everything new, and clean all the new clothes.  The white Christmas results in accidents and black-outs, heaters not working, leaking ceilings, and our homeless and poor neighbors left to the elements.  Parties lead to drunk drivers.  Gifts lead to bills.  Crimes rise.  Suicides rise.  Depression rises.  Giving decreases.  Food pantries are depleted.  Blood banks are low.  We remember those not with us this year.  We have been anticipating Christmas, the birth of our Lord, and we find ourselves in a barn with a baby. 
I'm sure Mary must have anticipated something much grander for the birth of God's baby as well.  When the angel said, "Do not be afraid, Mary.  You have found favor with God," I'm sure she imagined a slightly easier birth plan.  Joseph probably didn't anticipate another visit shortly after the birth saying to get out of town, run to Egypt, be a fugitive and foreigner, nor the following slaughter of innocent boys in pursuit of the child they would raise.  I even considered this year what a two-year-old or five-year-old Jesus must have been like, and wondered if there was a reason for the "missing years."  :) 
Just like an expectant mother anticipates the beauty and wonder of her new bundle of joy, we go into the Christmas season with hope and wonder.  We sing and worship.  We give.  We love.  ...And then life happens, and we find ourselves less than happy for various reasons, and we feel sad, we feel guilty, we feel worried.  I can't help but be mindful this time of year of those sharing in Mary's post-partum depression.  Have you been there?  Have you wondered why you can't experience the joy you so anticipated having?  I also have to remember, though, that life is a constant roller-coaster of ups and downs.  We can't keep Mary pregnant forever (ask any over-due pregnant momma), and Jesus must grow up to be our teacher and savior.  We can't afford to celebrate Christmas everyday, and we also can't lull in the day after too long.  We are still called to love, to give, to serve, to worship.  Just as parents don't stop being parents, we don't stop being Christians, regardless of the liturgical year.  And so, tonight, I pray for those in the lull that they may find joy again, and I pray that we may all find a bit of that same loving and giving spirit year-round.  I hope all your Christmases were blessed, as mine was, but I pray continued blessings for all the days in between!  How will you bless another this week?

Child's Play

Recently my husband and I were discussing the games we played and loved as children.  He shared that he loved the game "Red Rover," where two lines of people hold hands and chant, "Red Rover, Red Rover, let *** come over," and then one person would hurl themselves to the other side, attempting to break their chain and pull someone to the other side, etc., etc.  I never much cared for this game, and instead I preferred those "clappy" games, where a pattern of claps are established, and the group works in unison to preserve this pattern.  I really liked one to which we sang "Rockin' Robbin."  Here's the issue that came to mind later.  The games we play as children set up a way of thinking about the world in its little childlike microcosm.  My games seemed friendly, and they were, but they established a way of thinking that said there is a right, a correct, way of doing things, and you don't want to branch out or think for yourself because it will mess everyone else up.  "Red Rover," on the other hand, is what I see a lot of, with this side versus that side... hurling our ideas and insults at each other in an attempt to break through to another group and pull some back to our side, our way of thinking... and someone inevitably gets hurt at this game.  These are both games with rules, though, and not purely child's play.  I look at my four kids, and I see four individuals, sometimes playing together, sometimes fighting, and sometimes playing on their own.  My best example, though, is when music begins to play, as it often does in this Christmas season.  I received the ugliest "White Elephant" gift last year, a fish named Frankie that sings obnoxiously, and my kids love it.  Regardless of anything else going on, they will stop and dance to this fish's music.  They all dance differently, one ballet-esque, one bouncing, one running around like crazy, and yet another bobbing her head side-to-side.  There are no rules to the dance, but to follow one's heart and the beat to which they dance... and somehow it is all precious all together, however chaotic.  I think we ultimately could learn from child's play, from dancing our own dance.  If we could all forget about the correct, the right, the rules, the culture-established norms, and hear instead the music that makes us want to dance as children, I think we would find that we share in the same source of such a musical beat, and we would be able to dance differently, yet symbiotically.  Can you think of a better form of child's play to learn from?