Christmas changed for me before I entered my teenage years, not because I discovered that Santa Claus wasn’t real but because my mother’s death was. In her absence the holidays have continued to bring excitement and happiness but still haven’t been the same. 

I can’t remember ever believing in Santa or reindeer. I’ve always known the true reason for the season, that the presents under the tree were from my parents and that family was and always will be the best gift I could ever ask for. 

Christmas is my absolute favorite time of year. There’s no comparison to the celebration of the birth of my Lord and savior who came into this world to pay for my sins, yet still grant me new mercies every morning. 

I traveled home last year with great anticipation for the festivities ahead including some of my favorite family traditions staying up until midnight on Christmas Eve, caroling with members of my family at the local nursing homes and senior living center on Christmas morning and catching up with loved ones I hadn’t seen recently. 

An unexpected change of plans led our family to the hospital where many hours were spent in the coming days. My uncle who was battling lung cancer suffered from a stroke on Christmas Eve that took his life on Thursday, December 26.

As I heard the news I grappled with the disruption that it would cause for me and my family emotionally and logistically. In the middle of the guilt from my choice to skip Thanksgiving- the last opportunity I would’ve had to spend quality time with him, the questions of why God didn’t work a miracle and save him or delay his death until after the holidays and the mental strategizing of how I would make it back to California to present at a student conference my sister asked a question that added to the chaos and emotions circling my head. 

Knowing I wanted and planned to go back to California she looked at me and asked “What’s more important to you?”

Although I knew the answer to her question and was angry that she even asked, I had to answer. 

Without a doubt my family was more important but that didn’t or doesn’t mean that my commitment to lead my sessions or catching up with my mentee wasn’t. 

Because it was I made a choice to make it work and fulfill my prior commitments and be there for my family. I would fly back to California on Thursday to work and present at the conference on Friday. Then I’d take a red eye on Friday night to make it home on Saturday in time for the funeral and return to the West Coast for work on Monday. 

That was the plan and it worked until it didn’t. Due to flight delays and missed connection I didn’t make it to the funeral.

It wasn’t an ideal holiday season or start to 2020, but it was life that I got to live and share with you. Experiences lead to stories that can change and impact your life or someone else’s. 

From all the low moments in my life that have caused me stress, pain and heartache I always know that strength is an outcome even if I don’t get anything else. The storms of life make us stronger. I’m moving through 2020 with that strength knowing I can never have too much and that life will continue to increase it. 

In the words of Janai Norman.

“Lean into the lows. That’s where growth happens.”

I hope your 2020 is off to a great start. What lessons have you learned or been reminded of within the first two weeks of this year? Share below.

Hugs & Handshakes,

Jasmine C. Tate