I Shall Not Want

I was driving to a dinner and dance the other night when Michael Buble’s version of ‘I’ll Be Home For Christmas’ came on my Spotify. I felt hot tears forming in my eyes. I felt their heat as they rolled down my face. I don’t use much make up, but I was conscious with the little I had on that my tears would make an impact. So, as I drove, I artfully dabbed at my tears with tissue. That song hits home for me. My home as I know it is forever altered. In January 2025, it will be nineteen years since my mum passed. That was the first alteration to my home as I knew it. Anyone who knows me well knows that I have never stopped talking about my mum. Speaking of her keeps her memories alive for me, and I feel close to her at that time. Christmas hasn’t been the same. I have found it hard to get on with the festivities, though I have managed to over time come to a point where I’m participating. This year will be my second Christmas without my father. His passing has meant that my home is gone. It’s never going to be as it was. I’ve not even so much as bought a minced pie because he’s not here to enjoy it with me. When Michael Buble sang ‘I’ll be home for Christmas if only in my dreams…’ dabbing my tears was no longer possible. The dam broke. I was thankful for the traffic that slowed my progress to the venue!

That is how I feel this year. I’m not up for Christmas parties. One of my cousins sent out his yearly invitation, and he totally got it when I said I wasn’t up for it. How I appreciated his response. I know another cousin who hosts parties over Christmas will understand if I can’t make it to her party. It contrasts significantly with some who tell me ‘just come’ or ‘your parents will want you to be happy.’ Of course, my parents would want me to be happy, but if anyone understood, it would be them, on how broken-hearted I am over their absence. A few weeks before he died, an old neighbour who was visiting her father spoke to my dad. She is a believer, and he told her he was ready to meet his maker. Her response was that he needed to think of me. He explained to her that he knew I would take it badly and that it would be hard for a time, but because of how I had been brought up in the faith, he knew that I would come through. She shared this with me very shortly after he passed. It brings tears to my eyes every time I think of it. He is right. Of course, he is. So, I must share that whilst I’m not up for parties this year, I’ve taken steps to make sure I won’t be excluding community. I’ve already attended one Christmas event and was moved by the magnificent sounds of the choir. I’m attending a couple more such things including bazaars, even a pet-friendly bazaar where I get to take Gamora! Christmas is about the birth of Jesus. As I was so aptly reminded during the service where the choir performed, Christmas is about the true love, peace, joy, and hope on offer through Christ. This is something I can celebrate in my heart, where it really needs to be celebrated. As I worry about being loved now that both the people who loved me to bits are gone, I am reminded by the almighty God who humbled Himself to be born as man so that He could die for me and pay the ransom for my sin. That is love beyond anything my human parents could give me. Indeed, I shall not want. As I struggle with peace in my heart because of some unfairness that I am dealing with at present without the support of my mum or dad, I realize that the peace given to me by Christ transforms all understanding. When I consider that the LORD is my shepherd, the words that follow immediately in Psalm 23:1 are ‘I shall not want.’ This knowledge gives me so much peace. Even as I consider the bigger issues going around the world over which I have no control, I recognize that the peace Jesus gives is His peace (John 14:27). Therefore, I do not have to let my heart be troubled. I do not need to be afraid. This then makes me feel a sense of joy within my heart. True joy can only be found in Christ. Knowing He loved me enough to come and die for me and knowing that He is my shepherd, and I shall not want, gives me a deep sense of joy despite the crushing reality that home as I know it is no more. The hope I then have is unshakeable. Christmas is all about this hope. I can be so thankful because I shall not want. I have this hope.

There is so much grace that I am experiencing now. The support that I am receiving from those in the know of the difficult situation compounded by my feelings of grief over this season is simply moving. It’s serving as a reminder that I shall not want because the LORD is my shepherd. I don’t know how things will pan out. I don’t know if there will be an answer to prayer or the opening of doors, I need opened, but I am experiencing a calmness and a sense of composure. I’m reflecting on my response to the situation and am trying to be as Christlike as I possibly can (very challenging!). I have read Psalm 23 so many times. This time, the force behind verse 1 of the Psalm, ‘The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want,’ pierced my heart. It is another challenge to me as I seek to grow in my faith. Often, my focus is on the petitions I send out to God in prayer about what I want Him to do for me. This time, I’m convicted by the force of the words that king David penned, ‘I shall not want.’ Everyone knows that there’s always something we want or need. A look at David’s life will tell us how often he wanted or needed things. Some of the dangers he went through where his life was threatened must’ve been situations where there was want. Want of safety, shelter, comfort. At the very least, there must have been these. In the face of this, he was able to hear the voice of his LORD and say, ‘I shall not want.’ Why? Because ‘The LORD is my shepherd.’

This Christmas I am reflecting on my home that is forever altered. I remember the last Christmas I had with my mum in December 2005. I remember the last Christmas I had with my dad in 2022. I reflect on our late-night conversations pondering on implications for the birth of Jesus as we enjoyed a completely unrelated festivity in the blinking lights of our Christmas tree. I recall with thankfulness the shared faith we had, that helped us process challenges we had as a family. I remember with earnestness the gifts my parents got me and what I got them, or their enjoyment of the Christmas cake I made, but always being rounded off by reminders from them about how these didn’t form the true meaning of Christmas. I cannot explain the sadness that fills me because of how much I miss them now, especially in this season. And just as my heart is breaking, I am reminded that I shall not want. Why? Because the LORD is my shepherd. He was born that first Christmas morning with the sole purpose of saving humanity, which He ultimately did on the cross. As I reflect on this, I know that I am a recipient of love so deep, with a promise of peace and joy so unshakable, as the hope in that promise. One day, I will meet Jesus. I will be reunited with my mum and dad once more. All these things that are giving me grief will end. One day, there will be unshakable peace and joy in the presence of my God. I have hope in this. For now, I trust that the LORD is my shepherd, and I shall not want.