It Would Still Be Christmas…

Christmas Day (2025) is just days away. We’re at the 21st of December and you can just tell by the frenzy going on at the malls, in people’s homes, and offices, that folk are busy prepping for parties or to go away or to take some time off at the end of the year. It’s hard not to get a feel of the seasonal rush.

I love Christmas trees, lights, and the festivities. For me, a lot of this feels a bit lost without my parents. This year, I forced myself to put up the Christmas tree for the first time since losing my dad. There was a real gut-wrenching moment when the new skirting I’d ordered arrived. A friend was around and immediately started helping me. But a sensation from within hit me so hard. Usually it was papa who helped me with the tree. Having the reality of his absence hammered in that way didn’t help. 

I miss my mum a lot too. I remember her words and expressions whenever I made fruitcake. The whole cake making process this year, with the shutting down of a bakery supply store, made me reflect back on how she and my dad supported me as I grew in my baking journey. Another reality of their absence that was simply not needed. 

I’ve been talking with a few friends. Everyone’s going through different things – from carer duties, work layoffs, health scares, and bereavement. Everyone’s talking about how it simply doesn’t feel like Christmas because they can’t do the usual things. I recognised my own sentiments being echoed there, and hearing them played back, as it were, gave me a momentary pause to reflect. 

Is it not Christmas because I can’t have late night conversations with my mum and dad as we eat mince pies and sip drinks? Is it not Christmas when we can’t put up the tree? Is it not Christmas when the shiny decorations and fabulous sales don’t stir our hearts? Is it not Christmas because of someone near and dear to us passing away? 

Even on a broader scale, the same questions come up. Is it not Christmas if your country or region is at war? Is it not Christmas if there has been a tragic attack or senseless killings? Is it not Christmas if there is government instability or if we’re governed by leaders we dislike? 

Things are a little rough at home right now. It’s already hard enough trying to manage this season without my folks, but Gamora has ingested something and it’s doing a number on my little girl. It’s a bit of observation mode right now. There is rejoicing when she does her business – I think this is surprising her a lot. 

She’s got moments when she seems alright and at times her belly is so swollen, it’s worrying. I’m feeling stress too. Literally after walking out of the vet, I was so overcome by the potential dangers facing this little one, I threw up. I don’t want to think about it. Yet, this is a good time to ask – isn’t it still Christmas?

It is still Christmastime. The festivities of Christmas and the countdown to the end of year have such a lot of potential in the secular world. Everybody’s doing Christmas! It’s almost fashionable. But that’s all it is. No wonder it feels difficult if you’re grieving, unwell, or going through a difficult life circumstance.  Christmas Day will arrive on 25 December, right on schedule. Plans for Christmas Eve and Boxing Day are on everyone’s lips. It’s unending!

As I reflect on the challenges of home – I’m not enjoying this season of life after both my parents’ passing, and as I navigate this stressful patch with  Gamora’s condition, I am very far from enjoying the festivities. I am missing papa and mummy, and I’m very worried about what’s going to happen to Gamora. 

Yet, I cannot say that I’m sad about Christmas. On the contrary, I’m so thankful for Christmas. I believe that Christmas time is when Jesus came into the world to save us from our sins. Even as I say that, I feel a sense of relief that He did.

We sing about a Christmas babe. We play these carols as background music at parties and in malls alongside a nonexistent idea of a jolly, fat man riding a sleigh delivering gifts. We don’t talk about the actual gift of Jesus at a lot of our parties. 

This is really why I miss my parents. After the last of our visitors, we’d sit down and inevitably get down to the business of recognising the birth of Jesus and what it means to us. These conversations never got old. For the years after my mum passed, my dad and I kept up this tradition. I miss it. 

I am so thankful that we have a birth to celebrate- regardless of whatever’s going on in our lives and in the world. It is the birth of this Christ child that believers are thankful for. Not the Christmas trees, lights, and whatnots. Whilst we enjoy these things, most of us are only too familiar with challenges that are deeply personal or even on a broader level. 

It would be too difficult if I didn’t have Jesus to be thankful for over this season. I’d have to celebrate something that is only pretend shiny. I’d know that there are troubles. I’m thankful that because of Jesus, I don’t have to sugarcoat my troubles. I also know there is a genuine endgame. For this, I am immensely grateful. 

At Christmas, the hope of reconciliation between man and God entered into the world. It was the guarantee we were given that one day, all who call on His Name will rise in glory. It is a hope that the troubles of this world cannot dent. 

How’s it going to be for me this Christmas? It is already different. I’m missing home as it used to be. I’m also extremely worried about little Gamora who is curled up by me as I write. But these things I am dealing with, alongside all the devastation that others may be enduring, don’t make the birth of Christ and its reason any different. Nothing changes the meaning of Christmas. There is hope for a future that God has organised for us. I am thankful.