By Rachel Goncalves

Confession: I am not a fan of Christmas time.

It pains me to even admit that. But it’s the honest truth, even if it does make me sound like the world’s biggest Grinch.

Here’s the real honest truth though…at the core of it, I adore Christmas. The lights. The music. The tree. The palpable excitement of my children. The celebration of my Savior’s birth. November 1st, I joyously put up my Christmas tree and changed my Pandora station to Michael Buble’s Holiday Hits. I decorated the mantle and laid out our Nativity. I excitedly bought advent calendars and we started the countdown to Christmas Day. Fast forward to a week until Christmas, and curling up in the fetal position to cry seems like the most appropriate response to the overwhelm I feel. But who has time for that?! Certainly not me, (or any other mother I know).

Every year, I go into December with the battle plans of a warrior. Lists are made, events are scheduled–sometimes I’ve even purchased a gift or two–and I feel equipped to muscle through the busiest month of the year.  One of my kiddos was born six days before Christmas, so there’s also a birthday to contend with. (High five to all the moms of December babies.) The days creep closer to Christmas and suddenly that warrior confidence wanes as the holiday chaos rears its ugly head and brings its besties, holiday stress and holiday anxiety.

The days fly by faster than I can keep up with and the pressure builds and builds. Before I know it, I’ve spiraled into an anxious, stressed out, miserable mess. Cue Mom, The Christmas Grinch. I’m making to-do lists and checking them twice. Shopping and baking and barely sleeping. Managing over-sugared kids and budgets stretched to the max. Penciling in plans and taxi-ing kids. I’m planning and prepping and wrapping and stressing. And all the while I’m wondering if it’s enough. Are there enough gifts? Enough traditions? Is there enough magic? 

Every night, I climb into bed exhausted in that way that goes right to my bones. I lie there, guilt seeping into my already spiraling thoughts. I know my stress serves no one. It makes me a version of myself I don’t even like, and it certainly isn’t helping me be patient and kind with the people I love the most. With the list of enoughs running through my mind, I start to pray. My prayers are clumsy, riddled with confessions of my guilt and my desire to let go of the stress and lean into the joy. And like a whisper to my soul, I hear the Holy Spirit say, “He was enough so you don’t have to be.”

It’s the worrying and stressing and anxiousness that sucks the joy right out of the Christmas season. I know it, and yet I do it over and over, day after day, year after year. None of this is a surprise to God. When I’m stumbling through my exhausted prayers at night, He isn’t shocked to know I feel guilty about my stress and subsequent behavior. He is patient and kind and gracious. “His mercies are new every morning” is a verse I keep close to my heart as it offers a reminder that no matter what the day before beheld, God faithfully holds me in His hand. He knows my heart and loves me enough that He sent His son to bridge the gap between my shortcomings and Heaven. I can never be enough, but Jesus always will be.

On that very first Christmas, two thousand years ago, nothing seemed perfect. Mary and Joseph were an unwed couple far from home with a baby about to be born. They had no place to stay except a stable filled with hay. And yet God chose that seemingly imperfect setting to send His only Son into the world. His perfect Son. The birth of a King in the midst of oxen and donkeys, laid in a manger. And the heavens rejoiced! God used a situation that could easily be viewed as flawed to usher our Savior into the world, The Prince of Peace.

I wish that I could say I’ve left my holiday stress in the past and fully embraced the joy of the season. I absolutely have not. Every day is a battle between succumbing to the suffocating stress or leaning into Christ’s perfect peace. More often than not, I fail miserably. But now, rather than mentally berating myself, I climb into bed, lay my head on my pillow and give it all up to God because He knows I’ll never be enough and He loves me just the same. I don’t have to strive for unobtainable perfection when I lay it all down at the feet of my perfect Savior.

Thank you Father for your grace. For your steadfastness in the storm. Be with the moms working tirelessly to make the magic happen this Christmas season. May we feel your perfect peace as we remember that your mercies are new each day and only you are enough. We praise you Lord for humbling yourself and coming to us as a babe in a manger. Let us keep our eyes focused on you during this blessed Christmas season. Amen.