The holidays don’t always come wrapped in twinkling lights and warm cinnamon scents. Occasionally they sneak in quietly, settling over us like a heavy blanket we didn’t ask for.

This year, maybe you’re grieving the way things used to be. Maybe your family rhythm is different, your caregiving responsibilities are greater, or life simply feels too busy, too broken, or too burdened to celebrate well.

On the homestead, seasons teach us a powerful truth: You cannot rush growth, healing, or joy.

And the same applies to our hearts.

As a caregiver, a wife, a mother, and a woman walking by faith, it’s normal to feel the tension between longing for what’s next and feeling unable to settle into what is.

If you’ve lost your holiday spirit this Thanksgiving or Christmas season, you’re not alone. And you’re not broken. You’re simply human — and beloved by a God who meets you in the quiet, overwhelmed corners of your heart.

The Subtle Burnout of “Holding Everything Together”

When you care for aging parents…

When you’re raising kids through chaos and change…

When you move into a new house, new rhythms, new responsibilities…

When your emotions feel stretched thin…

It makes sense that the holidays don’t hit the same.

As a Christian and as a counselor would say, this isn’t failure. It’s emotional overload, the natural response to:

• Role strain (being responsible for too much at once)

• Grief (even non-death losses)

• Change in routine or family traditions

• Decision fatigue

• Anticipatory stress (“Will things ever feel normal again?”)

The enemy loves to whisper that you’re “not enough,” “not festive,” or “not grateful.”
But truth says otherwise.

Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is slow down, feel what you feel, and let God meet you there.

When Your Heart is in One Season but Your Life is in Another

You might find yourself saying:

“I can’t wait until this is over.”

“Maybe next year will feel different.”

“I just want to get through the holidays.”

Or my favorite, “I’m ready for spring.”

Longing for the next season is a sign of emotional fatigue — but also a sign of hope. You want joy. You want peace. You want rest. And God honors that longing.

But He also invites you to experience His presence right here, in this imperfect season.

On the homestead, winter teaches us something essential: Dormancy is not deadness. It’s preparation.

Maybe this holiday season is not about celebration…

Maybe it’s about recovery, rebuilding, and receiving.

And that is holy, too.

How to Slow Down When Your Heart Feels Rushed

Here are simple, compassionate, mental-health-informed ways to re-center your soul:

1. Practice “Micro-Sabbaths”

Two minutes of slow breathing.
One warm cup of tea.
Thirty seconds of stepping outside to inhale the crisp air.
Tiny pauses add up.

2. Reject the Pressure of “Holiday Performance”

You’re not required to create a perfect Christmas to honor Christ.

3. Name What You’re Feeling

Out loud.
In prayer.
On paper.
Naming emotions reduces their power.

4. Create One Anchor Ritual

Not a whole holiday plan.
Just one thing your heart can handle.
A candle.
A Bible verse.
A slow morning walk.
A prayer said at the table.

5. Let This Season Look Different

Different doesn’t mean less meaningful.
Different may actually be deeper.

Encouragement + Invitation to Go Deeper

As this season unfolds — whether it feels chaotic, quiet, unfamiliar, or unexpectedly heavy — I pray you remember this: you are not behind, you are not failing, and you are not alone. God is not waiting for you to “feel festive” before He draws near. He is Emmanuel, God with us, even when our hearts feel out of rhythm with the world around us.

On the homestead, winter teaches us that life underneath the surface is still life. Dormancy is not deadness — it’s preparation. And maybe, just maybe, this holiday season is your soul’s winter: a time for deeper rest, gentler rhythms, and a quieter awareness of God’s presence in the small, hidden moments.

If your spirit feels weary, take heart.

If your joy feels thin, hold on.

If you’re longing for the next season, breathe.

God is working in this one, too.

To help you slow down, reconnect, and rediscover His peace, I’ve created a Bible study and journaling section that goes hand-in-hand with this message — a place for you to sit with Scripture, process your emotions, and invite God into the very real places where you need comfort and renewal.

And if you’d like to take this even deeper, you can join me in the 31-Day Scripture Writing Journey, designed to help you gently rebuild your peace and presence one small passage at a time. Each day takes just a few quiet minutes, but the transformation that comes from steady time in God’s Word is lasting and life-giving.

Friend, you don’t have to rush through this season.

You’re allowed to slow down.

You’re allowed to feel what you feel.

And you’re allowed to let God meet you right here — in this imperfect, in-between, beautiful season.