Holly Jolly Grief.

We have arrived. The tip-off of the looooong season called The Holidays. Though we are still ruffling through the stockpile of Halloween candy, turkeys are on sale at Cub. The Christmas decoration industry is in full-steam-ahead mode. Depending upon your place in life, this might be quite exciting. holly-jolly However, for many of us, it's a time of mixed emotions. A number of things play into our melancholy. There is nothing like a holiday scene to bring grief to the surface. For one thing, those beautiful tables and gatherings set with family and friends remind us of those who is missing. But really, the sources of grief are varied:  loved ones who have died, of the life you thought you would be leading, of a hoped for relationship, of job loss, of living with poor decisions made in the past, of the world being not quite right.

It's all there, just under the surface. And at times it can make you feel a tiny bit crazy because you look around and everyone else seems to have it together. Or your friend's family looks so much better than your own.  

Recognizing this, there may be a temptation try and turn up the joy factor. To gather for worship and sing some of those rousers and perhaps even (gasp) clap. 

Not us. Humble Walk may be tempted to do many things, but this one we can quickly bypass. Instead, we gather for weekly worship this month--recognizing those who mourn. As the last bit of light closes for the day, we huddle and chant Psalm 121 together. Erin, Jason, Ben and Erika are providing a musical space within the liturgy that allows us to sit with all those who live on the edge of vulnerability.  Which I'm pretty sure is all of us.

Come, sit with us.