Debriefing Christmas

✨Debriefing Christmas✨

This morning, while the house was still quiet, I sat in the darkness of my living room, gently illuminated by the silent glow of my Christmas decorations, opened gifts still scattered across the floor and coffee table.

It was a beautiful day; the boys make it more so, especially Isaac, who’s so grateful and delighted, opening each gift as if it was exactly what he wanted.

I love Christmas. And in recent years, I’ve embraced the long call to retreat into something quieter, simpler, and more contained—a kind of sacred stillness—without really knowing why. Only recently did I begin to realize there may be a spiritual precedent that explains that instinct, perhaps more than we realize.

I know I’m not alone in this. For many people, the holiday season between Thanksgiving and New Year’s is challenging and disorienting. It seems to beg for something different that we may misdiagnose.

We may think it’s because of grief and longing, strained relationships, tight budgets, disappointed expectations, intensified stress, or disillusionment with the commercialized hustle of the season. Yes—any or all of this can cast shadows.

But if you’re a Christian, I want to gently invite you to consider whether—whatever the challenges—the feelings may be revealing something deeper.

For centuries—over 1,500 years, in fact—Christmas was observed very differently.

The weeks leading up to it were marked not by consumption or constant celebration, but by prayer, simplicity, fasting, repentance, and watchful waiting. Celebration came after preparation. Joy was received, not manufactured or bought at Macy’s.

Even our modern tradition of gift-giving and Santa has far humbler roots. Saint Nicholas was a fourth-century bishop known for anonymous generosity toward the poor and marginalized. Also cited as gifting inspiration, the Three Kings showed up long after Jesus’ birth, bearing symbolic, sacred gifts, not Fisher Price.

Widespread gift-giving as we know it came much later—long after preparation and restraint gave way to unchecked consumption.

In that light, the sadness, restlessness, or sense of disconnection many people feel during the holidays may not be a failure of gratitude, positivity, or faith. It may be a quiet form of spiritual discernment—an awareness that something sacred has been thinned, rushed, or displaced. A longing that is amplified by noisy hustle and excess.

Even now, I invite you to consider whether the Holy Spirit within you may be inviting you into something slower, deeper, and more sacred.

Not to fix this Christmas—but to begin imagining a very different one.

Perhaps even Christmas 2026.

In this quieter interval before New Year’s, there may be an invitation to stillness—to hear God’s whisper about what lies ahead.

Merry Christ-mas & Happy New Year.♥️