“OK, Mom. Have a nice time at church tonight. I’ll try to get over a little early to help you with the meal tomorrow.” 

Ellen frowned at the phone. “I don’t plan to go to church tonight.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve. Why wouldn’t you go to church?” Tori’s voice was incredulous. “Aren’t you feeling well?”

“I feel fine. But without your father…”

“Oh.” Tori was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, Mom. We all miss him. I didn’t think about you being alone tonight. We’ll all be with you tomorrow.”

“Yes, and for that I am grateful. Having your family and Will’s family over will be wonderful. I’m just don’t want to go to Christmas Eve service all alone.”

“I understand.”

“Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m sure you have a ton of last-minute wrapping to do.”

Tori’s laugh came through the line. “You know me too well. You’re right. I’d better get going. We’ll be over as soon as we get through all the unwrapping chaos tomorrow morning. Since the kids will wake us up before dawn, we shouldn’t be too late. Love you.”

“You too, sweetheart.”

Ellen dropped the phone into her lap and gazed out the window. Frost covered the edges, and the sky was gray, but no fluffy white flakes fluttered down. No, it would be a brown Christmas, like usual. She gave a little snort. For her, it would be a blue Christmas, no matter what the weather decided to do. Her first Christmas without Bob. It was bad enough going to church without him on a regular Sunday, but Christmas Eve was for families. No way could she handle that all alone.

She hefted herself out of her chair. Her bursitis was acting up again. Favoring her hip, she made her way into the kitchen and heated a bowl of soup. When she had only one spoonful left, the doorbell rang. Now who could that be? Surely the Amazon driver wasn’t still delivering on Christmas Eve.

She made her way to the door and opened it to find her dear friend Sharon. “What are you doing here?” She held the door open wide.

Sharon stepped into the house. “Tori called me.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you told her you weren’t going to church tonight.”

Indignation mounted. “And she sent you to check up on me? I’m fine.”

Sharon’s voice was gentle. “How could you possibly be fine? You lost your precious husband three months ago. And now you’re faced with your first Christmas without him. You, my dear, are definitely not fine. Believe me, I know what it’s like.”

The fight went out of Ellen. “Of course, you do. Steve’s been gone what? Three years now? You know all about being alone at Christmas. How do you do it?”

Sharon smiled. “By not being alone. My first Christmas without Steve, Janet called and asked me to sit with her at the Christmas Eve service. And you’re going to get through it the same way. I’ve come to take you with me tonight.”

Ellen swallowed hard. “But what if I start crying?”

“So what if you do? You’ll be surrounded by people who love the Lord. Isaiah called Jesus a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.”

“But the Bible says we’re supposed to rejoice always. Isn’t crying in church on Christmas Eve kind of like sinning?”

“Honey, Jesus himself wept. So, no. Crying is not a sin. Grief proves you had a deep and meaningful connection with Bob. And if you cry tonight, no one will judge you for it. In fact, I’ll stand right there next to you and cry with you.”

Sharon reached out her arms and Ellen stepped into them. “Go get changed. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

After a lovely service, with Sharon on her left side and Janet on her right, candles were passed and the lights were dimmed. Ellen stood in the sanctuary and lifted her voice and her candle to the Lord, singing Silent Night. And yes, the tears came. But the tears weren’t tears of sorrow this time. No, the tears were of love and joy and hope. When she was at her lowest, God had sent her friends. And now, at Christmas, when everything seemed its bleakest, God sent His Son into the world. At that moment, Ellen knew, even without Bob, she would never be alone.

Matthew 5:4 Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.

Lord God, on this Christmas Eve, help us to remember not everyone is rejoicing. For those who are grieving, please give them strength and comfort. Help them to realize You understand grief. Please surround them with people who understand. And please help us to comfort one another. Thank you so much for sending your Son to earth. As we commemorate this amazing blessing, please help us to reach out to those around us and remember You are always with us. In Jesus’ precious name, Amen.