Christmas Is Wonderful–and Christmas Is Hard

Now that Thanksgiving is over and the last of the leftovers have been consumed, the world seems to shift almost overnight. Turkeys vanish from grocery aisles, replaced instantly with tinsel, toy ads, and the familiar hum of Christmas music drifting from every speaker. Christmas is upon us. And if you’re not frazzled—and haven’t muttered that Christmas seems to come faster each year—then you are, indeed, in the minority.

This year, I’m making a dedicated effort not to get caught up in the holiday madness. I’ll breathe deeply and attempt to “rest in the Lord and wait patiently for Him” (Psalm 37:7). My Christmas list has been pared down, and any shopping that will be done will be online. And the usual whirlwind of Christmas baking—normally half a dozen candies and eight or more cookie recipes—will be trimmed dramatically.

Still, even with simplified preparations, December has a way of picking up speed all by itself. Community programs, church services, family plans, social events, shopping lists, and the cultural pressure to “create magic” can leave us exhausted before the season truly begins. The irony is easy to feel: we celebrate Jesus while barely making room to be still with Him.

In her beautiful book of prayer interludes, Quiet Spaces, Patricia Wilson encourages readers to seek out the moments of stillness where God’s presence becomes tangible—even in the midst of life’s busiest seasons. One of her Christmas reflections begins with the Psalmist’s awe-filled wonder:

“When I look at Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, the moon and the stars that You have established; what are human beings that You are mindful of them, mortals that You care for them?” (Psalm 8:3–4)

Wilson invites us to imagine standing alone on a quiet hillside at night. The sky is vast and full of stars. Suddenly one star glows brighter, growing in radiance until you feel wrapped in its light. With that starlight comes a deep sense of peace and joy.

She suggests that as we prepare for Christmas Day, every time we feel ourselves getting swept into stress, hurry, or the world’s version of Christmas, we pause—just for a breath. Let’s close our eyes and remember that bright star. Let its light pour over us. Allow its peace to settle in our souls and its joy to rise in our hearts. And from that place, celebrate the birth of our Savior.

Christmas is wonderful—and Christmas is hard.

It is a season of beauty, hope, and light. But it is also a season of pressure, expectation, and emotional complexity. Many people do not have the trappings we often associate with a “normal” Christmas: family gatherings, abundant meals, gifts beneath the tree, or bustling social calendars. Others find themselves so entangled in the craziness of December that by the time Christmas morning arrives, they are too weary to reflect on the One they’re meant to celebrate.

Even within the church—our sanctuary—the month fills quickly. Choir rehearsals and concerts, children’s programs, fundraisers, Sunday school parties, and special services all propel us toward December 25. None of them are wrong; in fact, many are joyous. Yet the cumulative weight can leave us spiritually depleted.

The first Christmas, by contrast, was marked by simplicity and wonder: a mother, a father, a newborn Savior, and a single bright star pouring out its light.

Perhaps this is the invitation for us again—to return to the simplicity, the quiet, the light.

As we enter this season, may we imagine ourselves beneath that star once more. May we let its light fall over us—steady, gentle, radiant with the promise of God’s love. The lists may grow; the days may feel too short; the calendar may fill faster than we’d like. But the star still shines. And beneath its glow, Christ invites us to pause… to breathe… to rest… to remember.

Remember that Christmas is not about how much you accomplish, but about what God has already done. Remember that peace is not found in a perfect December, but in a perfect Savior. Remember that the light of Bethlehem shines even now—for you.

A prayer (by Patricia Wilson):

“Christmas is such a wonderful time, Jesus. We celebrate your birth into our dark world. Christmas is also a difficult time. Many people don’t have the trappings of the season: the family, the feasting, the gifts, the social whirl.

It’s difficult, Jesus, when I suddenly discover that I’m just like everyone else—rushing, finding, doing, gifting, eating, and forgetting why I celebrate Christmas. Everything around me pushes me into celebrating the Christmas of this world.

Even at church I feel a sense of rushing that has nothing in common with the peace and serenity of Christmas. The Sunday school pageant, the Christmas bazaar, the choir concerts, the special services, all hurl me toward Christmas Day. Then when the day finally arrives, I’m too tired to think about the reason I’m celebrating.

Once the presents have been unwrapped, food has been devoured, and families have been duly visited, not much time remains for You. And so, Jesus, I’m asking You for a special gift as I celebrate your birth.

Pour down the light of Your star in the East. Bathe me in its peaceful light so that I can experience [the] profound joy which comes from knowing that my Savior is born.

Blessed Jesus, keep me in Your peace, today and always.
Amen.”