011 Christmas Still Holds Promise

Christmas can be hard.

Not just in the we’re busy and overwhelmed way (though that’s real), but in a quieter, more subtle way too.

Christmas promises so much: Joy, Connection, Generosity, Hope.

Even slow, cozy moments with the people we love. And hopefully a pause from the noise of the world.

The truth is — sometimes it really does deliver those things. Just not always in the ways we expect, or all at once.

But, I’ve noticed something about myself over the years. Christmas feels full of possibility right up until mid-December. That’s usually when I remember how tired I felt last year… and the year before that. When I realize I’m now carrying more — more responsibility, more expectations, more care for the people I love.

And yet, I don’t think that longing is a problem.

I think it’s a sign that something in us still hopes for goodness, still believes peace is possible, still wants to mark this season as different.

This year, I’ve been trying something small but meaningful: loosening my grip.

And yes, loosening your grip over something you love and cherish is really, really hard.

I’m not lowering expectations in a cynical way — but reshaping them with grace towards myself.

We’ve been creating a little more space. Fewer things on the calendar. Saying no to extra baking except the favorites. Fewer rushed store trips. More “let’s make what we already have work.” It hasn’t been perfect, but it’s been freeing. Margin has a way of lightening your load and softening everything it touches.

I’ve also been asking clearer questions:

What would a realistic Christmas look like this year?

What choices actually help me experience the season — instead of just survive it?

That clarity has led to gentler alignment too. Eating better not perfectly. Spending with more intention. Turning down the noise when I can. Choosing presence over performance, even in small ways.

And when the stress still shows up — because it does — worship has been a quiet anchor. There’s something grounding about familiar Christmas songs that gently remind my heart where hope actually comes from.

Advent itself teaches us this: waiting doesn’t cancel joy. Tension doesn’t erase hope. We don’t rush to resolution — we make room for anticipation.

So, if Christmas is feeling hard for you this year, I’d invite you to not force more cheer — but to create just enough time and margin for joy to find you, right where you are.

Merry Christmas!

Stay Aligned,

Mark