I ran into someone at the grocery store the other day and she mentioned that she hadn’t seen a Joss update in a while. No news is good news, right? Yeah, I suppose. Joss has felt better overall this month. Immunotherapy seems to be easier on her little body than chemo is, but we go back to some sort of chemo in the next couple weeks. 

We had a couple extra clinic visits for fevers which thankfully turned out to just be rhino virus (cold). But in all honesty, I’ve just gone quiet this month because life has felt extra heavy.  Of course, I knew Christmas would look a little different this year because this season has a way of amplifying what’s already tender. I’m paraphrasing but I think Cleere Reaves hit the nail on the head, for me at least - 

Grief doesn’t take a holiday.
Loneliness doesn’t pause for December.
Relational tension doesn’t resolve itself just because the lights are up.
And unanswered questions don’t soften simply because the calendar says celebrate.

For some, that weight looks like:
• empty chairs at the table
• unanswered prayers lingering that feel loud
• exhaustion you can’t explain
• joy mixed with quiet sadness
• embracing reality that’s so different from your expectations

If you’ve ever felt like you’re supposed to feel more joy than you do right now— you’re not behind. You’re not failing Christmas.
You’re not missing the point.

Christmas was never meant to be a performance of managed emotions.
It doesn’t ask you to negate what hurts, minimize what’s unresolved, or manufacture a version of yourself that feels more acceptable for the season. The story of Jesus entering the world doesn’t begin with clarity or closure—it begins in uncertainty, disruption, and deep human need.
That’s not a contradiction of the season. That is the foundation of it.

Isaiah calls Him Wonderful Counselor— not because He offers quick fixes, but because He enters the places we don’t know how to carry alone. He sits with you. He listens. He speaks peace into what feels fragmented.

So maybe Christmas isn’t about feeling less weight. Maybe it’s about discovering you don’t have to carry it by yourself.

The intensity of life doesn’t threaten the hope of Christmas—
it reveals why Jesus came. Because of Jesus, you don’t have to silence the weight of life to receive the light of Christmas. He meets you as you are, holds what feels heavy and brings peace not by erasing reality – but by entering it with you. 

So, I say all that to say we’re all over the place over here and I’m learning that that is OK. We can all be sad to have missed out on a lot of our Christmas traditions this year (so Joss doesn’t get sick and land us in the hospital) and simultaneously feel moments of unexpected joy this holiday season.   Here are a few of those moments.