Just before Christmas,
try to pause for a moment.
Not to judge others, but to look yourself straight in the eye.
Try to gather the pieces you left behind.
To close the unfinished matters of the heart.
To call where you fell silent out of stubbornness.
To say a “sorry” without excuses, and a “thank you” without footnotes.
Just before Christmas, try to lower your defenses.
To let anger rest, and let the heart remember how to love again.
Try to open your clenched fist.
Not only to give, but to make room for the other.
Just before Christmas, look around you.
Someone is hurting in silence, someone is cold,
someone is simply waiting to be seen.
Because it is paradoxical—and painful—
for God to descend into poverty, simplicity,
into the embrace of need,
while you remain locked inside the excess of your own selfishness.
Just before Christmas, try to become a little more human.
That, perhaps, is the truest gift.
