Slowing Down to Savor the Season

Sleigh bells are ringing, lights are gleaming, twinkling. Curled up under a blanket, mug of hot cocoa nestled in my hands, right now I’m living for Christmas-cozy feels. It’s been hard getting to this point, however. Since the hint of the holiday season, I’ve prepped and prepared for squeezing the most out of these quickly fleeting weeks.

Sure, my heart says to savor, but my body and mind tell me to rush ahead, give until there’s nothing left, sacrifice, strain, and stay focused on getting it all done in time for everyone to enjoy the festivities.

Christmas is a giving time, after all. The season of selflessness, the joy of an undeserved but eternal gift come to Earth for us. The month of miracles and sitting with what this season really means.

So why am I hooked on hectic? Why do I look for a sign to see whether this season is going my way? It’s as if I have this cookie-cutter idea of what I expect from the holiday, and if it’s a fraction of an inch different than my expectations, I moan and marvel at how it just doesn’t seem like the

way I experienced it before. Goodness, how nostalgia can tempt and trap.

If I step back and assess my actions, I am trying to make the season about me. Yes, this year is different than in years past. My schedule’s changed and doesn’t allow time for making gifts or greeting cards or even, dare I admit, deep reflection on the origin of the reason we’re celebrating in the first place. Somehow, in my twisted, self- absorbed brain, I’ve made it about what I can get from the hustle and bustle.

How did I get my worship so warped?

Pause. Breathe. Remember. A star appearing. The choir of angels. The small bundle breathing close to Mary’s breast. The shepherds and their marveling joy. A night that changed everything.

Therefore, the Lord Himself will give you a sign: The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call Him Immanuel. -Isaiah 7:14 Immanuel. God with us. God willing to become one of us, to usher in redeeming grace.

This is the true and proper worship: sit with the reality of Jesus come. To sing praise and look for Him to come again. All my striving and preconceived notions of the holiday? The first Christmas had no agenda or structure, other than a newborn sleeping quietly, new parents figuring out this unexpected life, and a God who came near to our humanity—joined in our

humanity, for the sake of the world.

There’s the sign—God’s divine destiny. It all happened according to the Father’s good design, smoothly and without worry. And I am the recipient; can I curl up with the gift of this moment, God with me?

Perhaps I have been too occupied with my to-do list rather than my to-Who list. It’s time for me to slow down. Time for me to reflect and repent, and to fall at the feet of Him who gave me the greatest, most freeing gift of all. The gift that granted me the right to celebrate life—His life, my life, the life of humanity.

Yes, lights are twinkling, and gingerbread cookies coat the air with sugar and spice. Yes, I may get distracted and think the world’s turned upside down if something doesn’t go as planned. But I remember why I am here beside the tree tonight, awash in its soft glow and a quiet instrumental carol floating through speakers.

In this subdued quiet, there is a pull to slow down and savor not what I think the season should be but what this season actually is.

Sarah Freymuth

Author: Sarah Freymuth is a writer and dreamer whose words weave honesty, vulnerability, and hope. As content and storytelling manager for Fellowship of Christian Athletes, she also writes for Proverbs 31, She Reads Truth, and YouVersion, sharing how God meets us in the everyday and in-between. She treasures life by Lake Michigan with her husband and finds beauty in simple Midwest living. Her book All the Hard Things: 50 Days Through the Valley releases February 2026 with Harvest House Publishers. sarahfreymuth.com