They said that Monday was the worst day of the year. But they didn’t know of her darkest, deepest, hardest days. Those black days, each in their own way so terrible she thought she might not survive, might go mad.

January days are short and dark and cold. Days of pain are long and pain comes back – or maybe never goes. What to do, what to do? Where and how to alleviate the pain, to know that spring will come again?

Into the pain come words of hope and there is gratitude for friends who pray, not even asking for what they pray but who support and comfort and are simply THERE. Often people want to know what they are praying for – and it’s a ruse for prurient curiousity and Christian gossip. Good friends simply pray not necessarily knowing the what and where and how and why.

So she writes of ways to alleviate those January blues. Walks the beach and tries to pray.

Sings harder and louder (where no-one can hear) of grace and mercy and love and peace.

“Lord I come before your throne of grace… Lord of mercy, You have heard my cry; Through the storm You're the beacon, My song in the night...." (R + C Critchley, (c) Kingsway music)

Knows the truth of the Messiah who comes into impossible messes and makes miracles happen.

Gives her broken heart to the One who does real heart transplants and gives her His. (Ezekial 11:19)

Proves that joy happens when she opens herself to be enveloped by God’s Presence. (Zechariah 8:8)

Needs a month of festival – from sorrow into gladness and mourning into a holiday: Purim, looking forward to a February of fruit and fasting in order to fall back into festival for Easter.

Reads blogs and posts and books and articles that are positive and encouraging.

Learns to skip and jump EVEN when it’s a bad day, when a friend takes her by the hand and skips her down the beach, arms swinging. Says, Smile – even through the tears.

Hears a friend say: God can make something beautiful out of our mess if we hand it over to Him to transform.

Remembers that ALL IS GIFT – even in the brokenness of broken hopes and broken dreams, broken hearts and broken days, the God of all comforts goes on giving and giving. Mending and healing. Transplanting and transforming.

ALL IS GRACE, amazing grace – through Christ alone who translates sorrow into joy, transfigures pain into healing.

CHRIST OF THE CROSS, WE COME TO YOU –

FOR YOU ALONE CAN MAKE US WHOLE

(David Adams)

What has helped you most, on those difficultest of days?

Share this with someone who is finding life hard right now?

How to stave off the annual blues of deepest darkest January? I decided to take positive action this year. First there was a decision to make - not Resolutions, but decisions that energise me and enthuse me.

Then, I started a survival kit following the advice of the Rev Sydney Smith (you can read about it here if you missed part one) in order to prevent the anticlimax and antacids of bleak midwinter blues. But in spite of following a few of his suggestions, I found I needed something more.

Sleep.

Deep, deep sleep.

Maybe it’s the urge to hibernate. To sleep through the cold and damp and dark.

Maybe it’s a desire to escape.

Or maybe it’s just a reflection of how much sleep I am missing, of the hours I need to catch up after the busyness and stressfulness of the weeks before Christmas.

I certainly know that I don’t function well if I have had too little sleep. Who does? Most of us are not like Winston Churchill or Margaret Thatcher, both of whom are reputed to have needed only three or four hours sleep each night. I need at least seven and preferably eight hours under the covers.

And I have discovered that there are ways to help me achieve those hours.

- get ready for bed early. If I leave it until it’s almost past my bed time I am too tired to be bothered to go upstairs. So then I procrastinate and then it gets later and later. And there’s something rather comforting about being in my pyjamas early, ready for bed, but still pottering about downstairs.

- dim the lights. Too much bright light too late at night is far too energizing. So a small occasional lamp, and not the main lights, helps relaxation. (Sitting gazing at the embers of the fire, by candlelight, in my pyjamas, is remarkably soporific. If only!!)

- dim the electronics. It’s all too tempting to check emails or social media sites last thing at night, but it actually stimulates my brain. As does any moving image, whether it’s a film, the 10 o’clock news or YouTube. I’m learning to resist the temptation.

- prayers in bed.

Being in bed in time to spend a few moments with the Lord. A short Compline; or some Celtic prayers from David Adams; or the Examen from Ignatius. Handing the day back to the Lord calms and restores me and settles me in a way that is hard to explain but which leads to a better quality sleep.

- a hot water bottle. Nice to be cosy!

But even more, I know that the quality of my sleep has to do with the quality of my day.

"It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives to his beloved sleep." Psalm 127:2 (ESV) My days are too often a hurlyburly of rush and catchup and then I forget to breathe. Just breathe.

I read this the other day:

Oh yes, that's me. Certainly the me I used to be. But it doesn't make me restful and peaceful and someone I think others would like to be with. And now I am older, fast approaching a rather large birthday, I know that my body and my mind and my heart crave that rest and peace.

Tranquillity. Space. Rest. And if I don't live like that now, I never will. It's a conscious choice - no one else can choose it for me! Why rush around in that vainness mentioned in Psalm 127:2 when I actually don't enjoy it anyway? Instead of thinking 'I have to be everything' I can choose to think, 'I have to be me, the me God made me to be.'

And that me needs tranquillity and space and rest.

And good sleep.

Now I’m feeling really sleepy … time for a nap, I think.

What have you found that helps you sleep better? And what helps you with the January blues?

For that hardest of hard days

Alleviating the January Blues - part two