Christmas is not about being happy.

My love / hate relationship with Facebook is getting increasingly lopsided.  I love it for the sharing of articles and campaigns I'd never otherwise see, witticisms of my esteemed network and the opportunity to stay connected with people that my dis-organisation in non cyber life would let slip off the radar.

However, and I'm not the first to say it, it is an impeccable device for self harm.  Want to feel like you are boring, less successful and less popular than a load of your peers?  Check out your newsfeed.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not against the sharing of adventure and happy times and achievements.  But alongside this great stuff, I wonder if we're encouraged to keep up appearances.  Maybe we're tempted to shout about the good stuff to project what we want our life to be, rather than what it is.  And possibly we end up looking for affirmation from anyone who will offer it.  Most importantly what if we're sweeping stuff under the carpet at the expense of tasting a little genuine hope?

Christmas is this incredible clash of well publicised stress and pressure to make some magic.  It is the time we push real life aside and wrap the season up nicely.  Somehow Christmas has become about being tidy and putting on a good show until its all over and the mess takes over.

Yet the first Christmas was far from tidy.  It was all about love breaking into the mess of the world and showing us hope within it.  Quite opposite of sweeping the crap under the carpet, Christmas was about looking straight at it and declaring 'there is more than this'.

If I've learnt anything this year, it's that putting your struggles out there isn't a ticket to getting out of stuff or an excuse to sit in a corner and feel sorry for yourself.  But I am holding onto the idea that embracing brokenness is where real hope lies.  It's not found in pretending that everything is fine and together, instead it is in saying 'here's my mess, I am not alone in it.'

Celebrate the great bits of life, absolutely, but not if it means pretending.  Christmas is for the strugglers, the hurting and the messy.  Joy is not found in the neatly wrapped presents and perfect roast potatoes, it's in taking a breath to declare that life is full of broken bits, and in looking for where the light is shining through.