When Christmas doesn’t feel like Christmas

When Christmas Doesn’t 

Feel

 Like Christmas

It’s Christmas Eve…but if I’m honest, I don’t feel “super Christmas-y” this year.

The lights are up. The music is playing. There’s a little snow on the ground. The decorations are beautiful. All the things that should make it feel like Christmas are technically here…

…and yet the feeling isn’t.

I’ve been thinking about why. Part of it is life and where I’m at right now. My mom is in Syracuse, spending Christmas alone. My son is there too—working. My daughter is in heaven, and recently, our pup went to join her. There’s definitely a layer of loneliness this year.

But at the same time, I’m grateful. I have my wife here with me. We have a few close friends to share time and laughter with. There is warmth in that. There is comfort in the people still here. There is appreciation mixed in with the ache.

And I’ve heard so many people say the same thing lately…

“Christmas just feels different this year.”

After sitting with it a while, I think I’ve landed on this:

Christmas doesn’t magically feel like Christmas just because the calendar says so.

It feels like Christmas when we slow down enough to make space for the moments that carry meaning.

It’s the little things that used to be “normal,” but now take intention.

It’s about the little things we used to slow down and make time for.

Baking cookies with family.

Writing out cards by hand instead of firing off a quick text.

Wrapping a gift thoughtfully instead of just getting it done.

Talking with friends or family we don’t see as often as we should.

Caroling, sledding, skating on a frozen lake…

…the little moments that make the season feel like something.

Life doesn’t slow down on its own anymore.

We live in a world obsessed with efficiency, optimization, speed, and doing more with less time. Somewhere in chasing “productive” lives, we accidentally cut out a lot of the heart.

Even I—someone who literally built a resort around slowing down and being intentional—struggle to actually live that way sometimes.

And if I’m struggling to make space for the things that make Christmas feel like Christmas…what’s the rest of the society feeling like?

Stressed? Overwhelmed? Disappointed that another year’s passed and we struggled even more with carving out time for the things that help our hearts catch up to the season.

And yet…there’s still something deeply hopeful beneath all of this.

Because Christmas, at its core, is rooted in hope.

It’s rooted in Jesus—

His birth, His love, His sacrifice,

and the reminder that He came for every single one of us.

Not just the people who never miss church.

Not just the ones with perfect prayers and tidy lives.

He came for the broken, the tired, the grieving, the joyful, the overwhelmed, the faithful, the lost, the hopeful, and the ones still figuring it out…even the hot messes in the crowd.  

ALL OF US.  

Ya know…Christmas isn’t missing.

We just have to slow down enough to feel it.

So whether Christmas feels magical for you this year or a little quiet…

Whether your heart is full or a little heavy…

Whether you’re surrounded by people or missing someone deeply…

Maybe this year we give ourselves permission to:

Sit a little longer.

Look people in the eye.

Say the thing we’ve been meaning to say.

Call the person we’ve been “too busy” to call.

Wrap one gift with intention.

Bake the cookies.

Use the fine china and the special silverware. 

Light the candle.

Take the walk.

Appreciate the moment we’re actually in.

Life doesn’t automatically create meaningful moments.

We do.

And maybe that’s the gift we can still give ourselves this Christmas. Do the little things that set this time apart from the rest of the year.  Even if it’s more work…it’s worth it.  The world will be better because you took the time. The people around you will also appreciate it.  

Merry Christmas, friends.

I hope wherever you are tonight, you feel seen, loved, remembered, and not alone. 🎄