As Christmas draws near, I can feel it — the sleigh feels heavier this week. And not because of the gifts.
This is the part of the season where the lists grow longer, the calendar fills up, and the invisible weight becomes harder to ignore. This season holds many different kinds of weight — for those carrying deep grief or heartbreak, and for those simply carrying the relentless pressure of “making it all happen.”
And here’s the truth I want you to hear clearly:
If Christmas feels heavy right now, it’s not because you’re doing it wrong.
It’s because you’re carrying so much.
For generations, women have been the quiet architects of the holidays. Moms, grandmas, aunts, sisters — the ones who hold it all together. You manage the schedules and the traditions. You remember the details. You navigate the family dynamics. You shop, budget, wrap, decorate, plan the meals, host the gatherings — all while trying to remember your brother’s third wife’s name and wondering if it’s even possible to make your mother-in-law happy this year.
You are, in so many ways, Mrs. Claus.
And that responsibility — even when it’s wrapped in love — can be exhausting.
This season has also reminded us, through difficult stories both near and far, just how tender life is. How quickly things can change. How much really matters — and how much doesn’t. It’s not meant to add guilt or comparison to an already full plate, but rather to offer perspective.
Perfection isn’t what makes Christmas meaningful.
Presence is.
Love is.
Being together — in all the imperfect, real ways — is.
So if something falls through the cracks this week… if the cookies are store-bought, the tree isn’t Pinterest-worthy, or the traditions don’t look exactly the way they once did — please know this: the magic isn’t lost. It was never in the details to begin with.
Before the final rush, I want to gently ask you:
- What are you really carrying into Christmas this year?
- What feels heavier than it needs to be?
- And what might you be able to set down — even just for a moment?
There will be time, after the wrapping paper is cleared and the house grows quiet again, to reflect on all of this more deeply. For now, my hope is simply that you hold Christmas gently… and that you hold yourself with that same grace.
However your Christmas unfolds — whether it’s full of tradition or beautifully different — may it be wrapped in grace, connection, presence, and love.
Merry Christmas from my heart (and sleigh) to yours.
