December has a way of holding contradictions.

The Christmas story itself lives in this tension: angels announcing great joy to terrified shepherds, a savior born as a refugee, hope arriving in the most vulnerable form imaginable. Light breaking into darkness without erasing the night.

This year has asked so much of you. Maybe you've held space for congregants navigating cultural fractures that split families and friendships. Or you've preached hope while watching giving decline and volunteers burn out. Perhaps you’ve celebrated baptisms and officiated too many funerals. No matter what, you’ve tried to lead well.

And now, here in the final days of December, you're caught between what was and what will be. The grief of unmet expectations mingles with fragile hope for new beginnings. The exhaustion is real, and so is the calling.

This is the space where God does some of his most important work. In exile, the Israelites learned to sing new songs. In waiting, Mary pondered mysteries too large for words. In endings, Jesus promised presence.

You don't have to force optimism about 2026. You don't have to manufacture energy you don't feel. What if, instead, you simply stood in this liminal space and let yourself be held by the One who has made everything beautiful in its time?

The work will be there in January. But tonight we sit and reflect and wait.

May the God who keeps his promises guard your rest. May the Spirit who hovered over the waters in Genesis hover over your weariness now. May you know, deeply, that you are loved, not for what you produce, but for whose you are. The church needs you whole. Rest well, friend.

Darkness to Light | Christianity Today

Poet-priest Malcolm Guite reflects on experiencing the darkness of depression and finding Christ as the "Dayspring" who enlightens those in shadow. Through personal testimony and two original sonnets, he shares how Isaiah's promise ("the people walking in darkness have seen a great light") came true for him when prayer and the rising sun lifted his inner darkness. 

This week: Pray the ancient "O Oriens" prayer: "O Dayspring, come and enlighten those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death."

Make Repentance Part of Your Holiday Preparation | The Gospel Coalition
John the Baptist didn't prepare for the King's arrival with external cleanup—he preached repentance for the forgiveness of sins. Betsy Childs Howard reflects on how Advent calls us to prepare our hearts, not our appearances, for Christ's return. As C.S. Lewis noted, repentance is "no fun at all"—it means laying down our arms and undergoing a kind of death. Yet this death leads to new life. The heart of Christian faith isn't making ourselves look better but having God truly cleanse our hearts.

Consider this week: Is there sin in your life that makes you hope Christ will delay his return? What would repentance look like?

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