OPINION:
There is a pervasive myth that suicide rates spike during Christmastime. In fact, suicides are actually lower during the Christmas season than at other times during the year, but the myth persists for the very understandable reason that many of us become reflective and a little sad at Christmastime.
Why is that? Christmastime is jammed with parties, celebrations and dinners with friends and family. Why, then, is part of it shadowed by melancholy? For that matter, why are some of the most popular carols the saddest and most emotional?
A good part of it is that the melancholy in Christmas is a direct counterpoint to the “great joy” heralded by the angels. The holy day and the attendant ending of the year compel each of us to carefully examine the progress we are making on our journey and bring into relief what remains to be done. From a purely temporal perspective, as each year comes to a close, it is only natural to think about what has been and what might be in the new year. Even corporations, the most terrible and soulless of all the institutions, assess their performance at the end of each year.
Christmas is especially connected to rituals among family and friends; almost every family does something very specific at a certain time during the season. With age — and hopefully wisdom and awareness — we come to the understanding, first vaguely and then clearly, that these rituals existed before us and, hopefully, will be performed long after we are gone.
Christmas is always going to be tangled up with memories that remind us of what once was and is no longer, of who used to be with us and now is not. Everyone older than a child has lost people they loved. At Christmastime, we remember those people with special intensity as we look around the table and note the absences. At the same time, we happily note the presence of new faces. One day, we will be among the absent, hopefully after we have passed along some of the light we received.
Considering one’s mortality is always an uncomfortable moment, which is why people routinely avoid it. It is therefore normal to be a bit melancholy during the season. It is more important, however, to focus one’s energies on those who are suffering or lost. To the extent you can, love and care for those who may be struggling.
The list is long: lonely people, single mothers struggling to raise their children while working, married people going through difficulties, single people who wish they had someone, elderly people worried about sickness and their impending moment, children worried about the social tyranny of their peers, the sick, the poor in body or in spirit, those who have not heard about Christmas, the millions throughout the world who suffer active persecution. In short, pretty much everyone; only the dead are at peace.
The world, now as always, provides endless opportunities to do good things, help people and focus on the needs of others rather than on one’s own challenges.
Finally, Christmas is about promise: the promise of a new life and a child who carried with him the promise of redemption. It is not accidental that Christmas is focused on children. The infant in the manger, like other infants, embodies hope and optimism. In the same way, children are living expressions of their parents’ hope for a better world. They embody the optimism for the future that the holy day promises and celebrates.
As we travel through life, sometimes our own hope, promise and optimism become enfeebled and we become compromised by our deficiencies and accommodations, small and large, to the world. On Christmas, we sometimes reflect on those deficiencies and accommodations and are naturally sad about some parts of our own journey.
The good news from Bethlehem is that God loves us, all of us, with all our deficiencies and wants us to be happy. So be of good cheer and have a merry Christmas.
• Michael McKenna is a contributing editor to The Washington Times and co-hosts “The Unregulated” podcast.

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