There’s just one problem.
A lot of times, I still leave her in California.
 
For someone who missed her mom so much, I certainly don’t spend as much time with her as I thought I would. And I don’t tell her I love her and how happy I am that she’s here as often as I should.
 
My mom lives five minutes away—I could walk to her house if I wanted. I could meet up with her in person pretty much any time I wanted. But I don’t. Somewhere in my mind, I forget she came home. I got so used to doing life on my own.
 
I leave my mom in California.
 
The other morning as I was driving home from dropping my children at school, one of those sappy songs came on the radio that reminded me of those many Christmases without my mom. My eyes welled up with tears—this time because I was so utterly and completely overwhelmed with gratitude.
 
Mom is here.
 
Here’s the thing I’ve come to realize: Just like I leave my mom in California sometimes, I leave Jesus in heaven, too.
 
The sad truth is, I forget Christmas.

I forget that the Son of God, Jesus, loved me so much that he humbled himself, putting on flesh and feelings to be close to me, to have relationship with me.
 
While in my mom’s presence, there is love, laughter, understanding, and, usually, lots of sugary sweets—in Jesus’ presence there is so much more.
 
Jesus’ birth brought light into the dark places of my life, and hope to the most hopeless situations I have and will ever face.
 
Jesus’ life, lived in my place, gave me perfection with God that I could not earn alone.
 
Jesus’ miracles proved that nothing is impossible if I believe in Him, by faith.
 
Jesus’ death gave me peace with God, when all God’s wrath for my sin fell on His son instead.
 
Jesus’ resurrection gave me victory over the enemy—I no longer have to live under the weight of sin, shame, and destruction.
 
And even when Jesus went back up to heaven, He left a part of Himself: the gift of the Holy Spirit, Who gives me power to walk not according to my own desires, but according to His.
 
 
You see, when I feel hopeless and anxious;
When situations feel impossible;
When I feel like God is mad at me;
And I’m covered in sin and shame;
When I feel like a victim to life’s circumstances and the enemy of my soul--
It is because I’ve left Jesus in heaven.
 
Christmas reminds me of this simple truth: Jesus came. And His presence changed everything.
 
Friend, I don’t know what you’re facing this Christmas, but you’re not facing it alone.
 
We can choose to live like He’s still in heaven, trying to do life on our own. Or we can stop and remember that He is here, and that in His presence is power, love, peace, joy, forgiveness—life.

We no longer have to bring sacrifices to get to God, the sacrifice has already been made. We no longer have to go through a priest to find out His will, He speaks to us through the power of His Holy Spirit. We are no longer orphans, we are dearly loved sons and daughters of God.

He is here. And He longs for us to be with Him.
 
May we pause and lean into that promise and whisper grateful prayers for the gift of Jesus this Christmas.
 
Emmanuel, God with us.
 
Merry Christmas With Love,
Katie G.

I don’t think it’s just me, because I recognize the familiar look on the faces of other moms, too.

Disappointment.
Frustration.
A longing for something different.
 
We have a problem, you and I, and that problem is we’ve given in to the lies that more activity equals more memories.
 
Here's what I've come to realize, friends:
In my pursuit of a memorable Christmas, I miss out on a meaningful Christmas.
 
A season wrought with intention.
Activities chosen (or declined) with purpose in mind.
Relationships nurtured through the rare gift of unrushed time.
This is starting to sound like a Whoville rhyme...
 
Okay, off topic, but here’s the point:
My children don’t need to see four different Santas, no matter how fun that might seem. And maybe I don’t need to spend time and money I don’t have putting together goodie bags for my daughter’s class when a bag of wrapped candies will do. And, perhaps, I don’t need to serve at all five of my church’s Christmas services, but instead give my very best at one or two.
 
There’s that rhyming again. For Grinch’s sake. I digress.
As much as I (obviously) struggle with it, there is power in focus.


What would a meaningful Christmas look like for you?
 
Maybe it’s forgoing your church’s widely-attended ladies event for brunch with just your besties.
 
Maybe it’s trading your delicately decorated, 7-foot pine for a table-top version so you don’t have to spend the season fussing at your curious toddler.
 
Maybe it’s taking a meal to one neighbor who lives alone instead of dishing out soup to the masses.
 
Please hear this: I’m not saying any of these things are wrong.
If you’re sitting there arguing in your head, BUT I LOVE THE HUSTLE AND BUSTLE OF MINGLING WITH 200 OF MY CLOSEST LADY PALS, then by all means, GO. FOR. IT!
 
I’m simply asking this: What is going to be most meaningful for you and your family this Christmas?
 
When you're struggling to figure out whether you should go to that work Christmas party, or travel to Minnesota to see your great Aunt Anne, slow down and ask yourself these questions:

• Who do I want to give my BEST to this Christmas?
• Does this deepen our values and our connection with each other?
• What will bring me/us the most fulfillment?
• How will this impact me ten years from now?