Two years ago, in December of 2014, we had a new baby. We were staying in a condo on Panama City Beach. The beach was perfect – sparkling emerald water, white sugar sand that squeaked under our feet, and of course the bright and endless Florida sunshine. This year we stayed in that same condo, but without our baby. He is gone and in his place there is a gaping hole that on many days threatens to spread and consume us. The water looks the same, the sand still squeaks, and although the sun is still there, it often feels like it will never again shine into our hearts.

At this time of year, as I reflect on the birth of the baby Jesus and look forward to a new year, it has been impossible for me not to think about my own baby. What does the birth of Jesus say to someone like me, who has more questions than answers, more doubt that certainty, and who is wondering, “what now Lord?” What does the “good news of great joy” mean to people crushed by loss? I am surrounded by images of Mary looking angelic and confident as she holds the baby Jesus. The Bible records how the angel visited Mary and told her that she would give birth to a son and that God would give him the throne of his father David and that his Kingdom would have no end. Mary must have been overwhelmed with hope and excitement.

But this year at Christmas, my mind has been focused on another image of Mary – that depicted in the Pietà, of Mary holding the broken and battered body of Jesus after being taken down from the cross. I remember the first time I saw Michelangelo’s Pietà in Rome.  I appreciated it as a beautiful and masterful work of art, but it didn’t touch me on a personal level.  I didn’t think of Mary as a real mother full of pain and doubt who really lost her son.  The Christmas depiction of Jesus is nonthreatening – a chubby and happy baby lying in the manger surrounded by his adoring parents and the awestruck shepherds. The Easter image of Jesus being held by his weeping mother is in your face and more difficult to reconcile, but both images of Jesus are related and necessary to get the complete picture. I have to think that while Mary held the broken body of her son, she too had more questions than answers and more doubt than certainty. I can almost hear her crying out, “God, you told me that he would be a savior, that his kingdom would have no end. How could you let this happen? Where were you? Where are you?” I have no doubt that Mary prayed that God would save her son and God answered by letting her son be tortured and crucified.

When Henry died, after the doctors stopped trying to revive him, they let Sarah into the emergency room to hold her baby one last time. She sat in the ER, holding Henry’s lifeless body. She ran her fingers through his curly blond hair and sang, “You are my Sunshine, my only Sunshine.” She gave him a “Mommy kiss” of one big kiss on his forehead and a “Daddy kiss” of multiple kisses all over his little face. Like Mary, she had also prayed that God would save her son. I prayed too, on the other side of the world, prostrate with my face to the ground in his room beside his crib, that God would perform a miracle. God answered by letting our baby die. What can the Christmas story have for me?

During this Christmas season, I have been drawn to the story of Abraham. The Bible says that God tested Abraham. He called on Abraham to sacrifice his son. Abraham obeyed and prepared to sacrifice his son. At the last moment before Abraham thrust the knife into his son, God sent his angel to stop Abraham and to spare his son. God did not sacrifice Abraham’s son but provided an alternate sacrifice.

But when it was time for God to sacrifice his own son, he didn’t stay his hand. There was no alternate sacrifice. God sacrificed his son for a depraved humanity that did not recognize him and did not deserve him. God loved us in our sin and shame and brokenness. He loved us so much that he sent his son to us as a perfect sacrifice to save us because he knew we could not save ourselves.

This year at Christmas, I am overwhelmed by God’s perfect love for humanity as demonstrated through pain and suffering – light out of darkness, joy out of pain, and rejoicing out of despair. Christmas means that God knows us and loves us despite ourselves. It means that God has not forgotten us. At Christmas we remember that God sent his son into a dark world to shine brightly. God does not love us as someone who has not suffered pain and loss, but as one who loved us so perfectly that he would endure pain and loss for us.

Have you experienced loss this year? Do you enter 2017 with a broken heart, wondering where God is in the midst of your pain? This year more than any other year, I have seen firsthand that God is present in the midst of our pain. He understands our suffering because he has suffered too. God meets us in our suffering. He meets us in our despair. He meets us in our shame. There is no pain or loss that is too deep for God. The light continues to shine in the darkness and the darkness will never overcome it.