
When Christmas Lingers
It’s the day after Christmas.
And I always feel it right about now.
The wrapping paper is gone. The music is quieter. The calendar moves on whether my heart is ready or not. There is a strange tenderness in this in between space. Not quite celebration. Not quite normal life again.
I used to think the magic of Christmas lived only in the day itself. The lights, the traditions, the way everything feels held for just a moment. But lately I wonder if the truer work begins after. When the manger scene gets packed away and we are left to decide what we are actually carrying forward.
Because the miracle was never meant to stay small and contained. It was meant to move with us. Into the dishes. Into the hard conversations. Into the ordinary Tuesday mornings when faith feels quieter and obedience feels less poetic.
Today I am asking myself a gentler question. Not, Did I do Christmas right? But, What part of Christ do I want to keep practicing now?
Maybe it is His restraint. His willingness to stay. His patience with slow learners. Maybe it is choosing mercy when irritation feels easier. Or choosing trust when the glow has faded and the answers are still unclear.
The world tells us to rush on. I think the Savior invites us to linger. To let the miracle sink deeper than a season.
So if today feels a little tender or oddly heavy or even anticlimactic, I think that is okay. Perhaps this is where the real discipleship starts. Quietly. Practically. One small choice at a time.
I am staying here a bit longer. Carrying Christmas with me. Not perfectly. But intentionally.
