Dear Reader, 

This may not be the Christmas you had been dreaming of. Not even close. And maybe you had cooked up worst case scenarios in your head to save yourself from more disappointment, and now none of them seems to be working. 

Or maybe you are at Peace, yet, you want to stay away from the bustle of Christmas just because. You may have lost someone close to you in flesh or in spirit. Or as a consequence of a difficult year, you may have chosen to stay away from Christmas parties, or the ensuing celebrations. 

In short, this is your most difficult Christmas yet. Or the quietest. 

And I am with you in this. 

It is okay. If you are mourning the loss of someone close, or the life you once lived, it is okay to let the grief sink in. It is healthy, and natural, and obvious to let that feeling of sorrow linger a bit longer. 

Sometimes, when we go through a difficult phase, every happy thing triggers us, or annoys us. It is one of the phases of grief, and it is so okay to feel those things. 

Quietness also comes from several things. We may be going through a pruning season where God is trying to stop us in our tracks, and redirect our paths. Other times, it is a self-directed path because we want to start the year differently, and a festival seems to be in the way of that self-reflection. Quietness may be sad, or it may be a happy kind of quietness where you just want to silence some voices around you, and need to hear yourself or God more clearly. 

Quietness is not super fashionable during the Christmas season. But here’s something that shouldn’t surprise you: it is the very essence of it. 

Imagine how lonely and utterly miserable Mary must have been when she learnt she was pregnant, not by her husband, but through the Holy Spirit. What a bizarre prospect! 

Should I tell anyone?

Should I tell my fiance Joseph?

Will he think I am crazy?

Will he accept me?

She did share it with Joseph and with her close relative Elizabeth. But for the most part, she seemed to have remained quiet about it – content in the peace that God gave her at the time. 

There they were – Mary and Joseph – living the burden of the greatest news to mankind, yet quiet in the assurance that their job was to bear the child safely.  How lonely they must have felt – no place to deliver the savior baby, no place to rest. 

Baby Jesus arrived, not in any mansion, amid the noises of midwives, and a hundred attendants to swaddle him in fine clothes. He arrived in a manger at a routine stable amid the gentle mooing of the cows, and baaing of the sheep, and the kind smiling faces of his earthly parents. 

When I imagine the beauty and the lack of this moment for Joseph and Mary, I believe they reveled in the quietness of it, even as they may have dwelled in the difficulty of it. 

It was also a very quiet and cold night for a bunch of shepherds that night. As they watched their flocks, faithfully enduring the difficulties of the winter. All was peace and quiet, until it wasn’t. 

It gives me goosebumps when I think about it. Regular people minding their sheep are met by a group of white and bright people who call themselves ‘angels’. A bright light shines on them, and angels arrive out of nowhere proclaiming the birth of Baby Jesus. 

Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom this favor rests. [Luke 2:14]

After the angels disappeared, the shepherds were left alone – to think, to brood over it, to decide. I wonder what they talked about! 

What just happened bro?

Listen, are we drunk or what?

Did we really see what we saw? 

The Bible says, they believed in the message, and acted on what they were told! They went to check. They knocked at the address the angels asked them to go. Later, they boldly shared the good news to anyone they met. 

But only they – the shepherds – felt the peace that the angels promised them at the time. Each night as they watched their flocks, I believe, the peace engulfed them, and they quietly marveled at how the baby would turn out to be. 

Christmas brings quietness of heart and mind 

Jesus is called the Prince of Peace. So in that sense, Christmas really is about quietness. He quiets our anxious hearts, and calms our over-analyzing minds, and brings peace. 

The most enduring carol of all times says – 

Silent night, holy night

All is calm, all is bright

Our world teaches us that brightness is about fanfare, and noise, and lots of material validation. But Christ broke these standards 2,000 years ago by taking birth in a lowly human form. He brought peace to calm the noises of this world. 

But most importantly, He brought calm to a restless soul – a soul weary of burdens of mistakes, and sins, and sorrow, and self-loathing. 

I want to be the first to say – I am that restless soul. And each Christmas, Jesus reminds me of the calm, the quietness, and the peace He gives me freely. 

It is okay to recognize that your heart or mind is restless as you seek out a quiet Christmas to deal with your inner demons, your innermost longings, or your deepest sorrows. It is okay if you feel like a loser, a coward, a pathetic mourner, or a helpless lover. 

The only person who is fully capable of quelling these storms is Jesus. He says – 

“Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” [Matthew 11:28-30]

 Take heart in the fact that Jesus has paid what you owed. He loves you for who you are  – with your difficulties, and your ugliness, and your anxiety, and your sins. 

Dwell in His peace, His calm, and His quietness. And it’s possible to do this while mourning, and while grieving – because He understands. With Jesus, it is possible to celebrate quietly and to feel joy while grieving.

I urge you to summon that joy in your heart on account of Jesus. From personal experience, I can tell you that He will not judge, or ask questions. He will listen, and bring true joy.

Here’s wishing you a quieter, calmer, and a little brighter Christmas.