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“and beginning to sink he cried out, ‘Lord, save me.’ Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of him, saying to him, ‘O you of little faith, why did you doubt?'”
Matthew 14:30-31 (ESV)

Are you sinking?

Did you think, for a time, that maybe you’ll be fine as a widow, but now this Christmas season hit, and every Hallmark movie speaks of love and romance? And every jewelry commercial tells you Christmas just isn’t special without that husband?

Do you feel the threat of drowning in holiday loneliness?

Oh, how I know that feeling. Year after year. It’s been ten years of Christmases without Tom.

Year one I had friends gather around me to help me forget I’m alone.

Year two I was recovering from a surgery and pretty much ignored the holiday.

Year three I embraced Christmas alone with just my boys and me- burying my feelings in my role as a parent.

Year four I wallowed in the pain of embarking on a strange new world of dating.

Years five, six and seven I poured myself into starting and leading this ministry and helping other widows.

Year eight I tried to escape the thoughts of loneliness on a cruise.

Year nine I finally relaxed and enjoyed my independence as a single mom in a joyful Christmas at home with my boys, finally healed from those raw feelings of early widowhood.

And here I am in year ten–married and in a new season with its own joys and challenges.

But oh the pain. The sorrow of spending the holidays without your husband. It’s like seriously sinking in the waves of despair–just like Peter in Matthew 14.

When he stepped out of the boat to walk on water, he knew he was embarking on a dangerous walk–just as we stepped out in our journeys as widows. The waves of grief are tough enough, but when holidays hit, we widows can relate to Peter– he was able to stay afloat until his fear broke down resolve and he began to sink.

You know what happens when we start to focus on the waves? We forget we are eternal. We see our lives through human eyes- through that limited time-span,we call a life. And in that limited view, every pain and sorrow seems monumental. That’s because we are human.

That’s why Peter couldn’t maintain walking on water. He was human.

But Christ is more than human. Sure, He was born in a manger–a worldly birth. But He is not of this world. He is God in the flesh. And as God, He doesn’t see the world and our struggles the way we do. He sees things eternally.

That’s why He could walk on water. Danger is only temporary. He lives eternally, and something so trivial as gravity and water has no bearing on His eternal nature.

And that’s why He could heal. A sickness is only temporary – in eternity, that person will be healed. So He simply places that healing in the here and now. Even death is only temporary, and He simply views the person in their eternal sense as alive, and Lazarus lives.

And the pain of loneliness–well, it too is temporary. It’s like the waves that Peter feared – here one moment and gone the next. When Peter succumbs to the waves and begins to sink, Jesus reaches out and grabs him, and almost sounds surprised we can’t see how eternal we are. ‘O you of little faith, why did you doubt?’ He asks because He knows – eternally all things are possible through Him.

This Christmas is possible through Christ, sister. Your widowhood is only temporary. Christ is eternal. Your security with Him is eternal. Look up at Him, and not down at the waves. Live. Enjoy the season. Enjoy that He immediately reaches His hand out to you.

He is there in this season.

Lord Jesus, Give the gift of eternal perspective to each and every one of our widowed sisters in this season. Amen.