I Don't Want to Miss Christmas

The winter sky hangs heavy, a soft gray blanket stretching across the horizon. I watch a V-formation of geese cut through it, wings beating in perfect rhythm, and I’m instantly transported back to my childhood. School was out for the Christmas break, and even though we didn’t have much, the excitement of the season made everything feel full and bright.

I remember huddling with my brother and sister in front of our old TV, blankets wrapped around our legs, eyes wide as Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and Frosty the Snowman flickered across the screen. The glow from the television danced on our faces, and for a little while, the world felt small, safe, and magical. Those moments were simple, yet they were everything.

Oh, to go back to those days! To feel that wide-eyed wonder again. But time moves on. Things change. People change. Christmas is different now, life is different, and yet—there is still a longing in me that hasn’t faded.

This year, I pray that I won’t miss Christmas—not the gifts, not the hustle, not the tinsel and lights—but the real Christmas. The quiet, unshakable joy of Jesus’ love, the hope that steadies us when everything else shifts. May I hold that close, like we held each other in front of that old TV, and remember what truly matters.

Because no matter how gray the skies, or how far we travel from those childhood days, Christmas is still there—waiting, gentle, and true.