Bonus SectionSurviving the Holidays

The holidays can be beautiful.

They can also be exhausting.

Sometimes both before breakfast.

Lights glow.

Music plays.

Families gather.

Meals are prepared.

Gifts are wrapped.

Traditions return.

And somewhere beneath all that celebration may be:

grief,

financial pressure,

family tension,

loneliness,

travel problems,

unrealistic expectations,

old memories,

new disappointments,

and the quiet pressure to make everything feel wonderful.

That is a lot to carry.

Prayer Post Office does not ask us to manufacture a perfect holiday.

It invites us to bring God the real one.

The joyful parts.

The complicated parts.

The empty chair.

The crowded house.

The bills.

The laughter.

The memories.

The people we love.

And sometimes the people we are trying very hard to love.

You do not have to manufacture a perfect holiday.
You can receive God’s presence in an imperfect one.

When Celebration and Grief Sit at the Same Table

The holidays have a way of intensifying memory.

Someone is missing.

A relationship has changed.

A tradition no longer feels the same.

The room can be full and still feel empty.

Grief does not become ungrateful simply because the calendar says celebrate.

You can miss someone and still thank God.

You can laugh and still ache.

You can enjoy what remains without betraying what was lost.

Joy and grief can share the same table.

Do not force yourself to choose only one.

Bring both to God.

The Empty Place Beneath the Star

Our church once built a Living Christmas Tree from scaffolding and real branches. Eventually, a hundred singers stood inside it, while a live orchestra performed in front of the stage.

My dear mother was afraid of heights. She was afraid to fly, too. So where did they place her? At the very top, just beneath the enormous lit star. My sister and her husband stood below.

I can still picture them there.

My beloved Mother’s favorite holiday was Christmas. By June or July, she was already planning, buying, and making things for the celebration ahead. Christmas had a way of arriving early in her heart.

The year my beautiful mom died, her place in the tree was left empty in her memory. We knew she was with the LORD—she had gone to a higher place, Heaven. Still, I felt the ache of the place where she had stood and sung so joyfully.

She died in August, yet she had already purchased several ornaments, including white angels for the tree. She had also completed a handmade tree skirt bearing the name of her first grandchild—my precious daughter, born just months earlier.

She had prepared for a Christmas she would not spend with us. Yet the work of her hands remained: ornaments, a tree skirt, and love we could still see and touch.

That memory holds both sorrow and gratitude. I miss her. I thank God for her. And I praise Him for His promises and His faithfulness, even when a beloved voice is missing from the celebration.

What do we do with an empty place at Christmas? We can thank God for the person who once filled it, tell Him how much we miss them, and allow both gratitude and grief to be present.

Easter: Death Does Not Have the Final Word

My favorite holiday? Easter.

It speaks to me of a new day dawning and new beginnings. Most of all, it celebrates the resurrection of Jesus Christ—the reason our hope reaches beyond the grave.

In West Palm Beach, we welcomed Easter Sunday at sunrise from the chapel by the lake. And, of course, I greatly appreciated the special suits my Mother would give me. Some Easter blessings came with sleeves and lapels.

My father attended church only for weddings and funerals—including his own.

Christmas reminds me of my Mother’s loving preparations. Easter reminds me that, in Christ, death does not have the final word.

Whatever your faith background, you are welcome to pause here. I invite you to thank God for life, breath, and the freedom to make meaningful choices. Our choices matter—to us and to the people whose lives we touch.

For me, the heart of Easter is Jesus Christ, risen from the dead. His invitation is personal, and my hope is that these pages help you consider it sincerely.

Do People in Heaven See Us on Earth?

Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us,

Grief asks a question the heart rarely says out loud.

Can they see this? Do they know the chair is empty? Do they know how much they are missed this year?

Hebrews 12:1 pictures a “great cloud of witnesses” surrounding us as we run our own race of faith.

In context, that cloud is the great roll call of Hebrews 11—Abel, Noah, Abraham, Sarah, Moses, Rahab, and the others who trusted God long before we did.

Their witness is the example of their faith, not a live report on our afternoon.

Scripture simply does not settle, one way or the other, whether departed loved ones are watching our holidays unfold in real time.

It can be tempting to claim more comfort than the text offers. But honesty honors both the Scripture and the grief.

What Hebrews 12:1 does promise is this: those who finished their race before us still speak—through the faith they modeled, the hope they held, and the God they trusted to the very end.

Their example calls us to lay aside what weighs us down and to keep running our own leg of the race with endurance.

And the very next verse tells us exactly where to look while we run:

“fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith” (Hebrews 12:2).

So the mystery of what our departed loved ones can see remains, honestly, a mystery.

But the invitation is not a mystery at all.

Look to Jesus. He sees you fully, right now, in this exact moment of missing them.

Family Without the Fantasy

Holiday expectations can turn ordinary human beings into imaginary characters.

Everyone is supposed to arrive happy.

Stay agreeable.

Avoid sensitive topics.

Remember every tradition.

Bring the correct dish.

Give the perfect gift.

And leave before anyone says the wrong thing.

Real families do not work like greeting cards.

People arrive with histories.

Opinions.

Wounds.

Habits.

Personalities.

And sometimes unresolved conflict.

Peace does not require pretending those realities do not exist.

Sometimes peace requires boundaries.

Sometimes grace means changing the subject.

Sometimes love means listening.

Sometimes wisdom means leaving early.

And sometimes the most spiritual sentence available is:

“I love you. Let’s talk about this another time.”

Peace is not pretending there is no tension.
Sometimes peace is choosing not to feed it.

The Financial Storm

Generosity can become distorted by pressure.

We want to give.

Then comparison arrives.

Someone gives more.

Someone expects more.

Advertising tells us more would make the celebration better.

Debt begins disguising itself as love.

But affection does not require financial self-destruction.

A thoughtful gift can be small.

Presence can be generous.

A handwritten note can carry more love than an expensive package.

A meal can become hospitality.

A phone call can become ministry.

Do not spend January paying for an image of December that no one needed.

Generosity and financial wisdom belong at the same table.

When the Itinerary Changes

Travel plans fail.

Flights delay.

Weather changes.

Cruises shorten.

Guests cancel.

Someone gets sick.

Dinner burns.

Children melt down.

Adults sometimes do too.

By now, Prayer Post Office knows something about interrupted itineraries.

Sometimes the itinerary changes.

God’s grace does not.

The holiday does not have to unfold exactly as planned for something sacred to happen inside it.

Prayer does not always restore the itinerary.
It restores our orientation.

A Table with Many Traditions

The holiday season also reminds me that the people I love do not all share the same faith tradition.

Some are Christian.

Some are Jewish.

Some are Muslim.

Some are Hindu.

Some are Buddhist.

Some are Sikh.

Some follow other traditions.

Some are unsure what they believe.

Some claim no faith at all.

I can respect a person without pretending all religions teach the same thing.

They do not.

I can honor friendship without hiding my own conviction.

And I can listen respectfully while still pointing, lovingly and clearly, to Jesus Christ.

That is the posture I want at my table.

Not mockery.

Not coercion.

Not argument for argument’s sake.

Hospitality.

Honesty.

Love.

And a clear witness to Christ.

Christmas — and the Christ We Must Not Lose

Christmas can become crowded with everything except Christ.

Shopping.

Travel.

Meals.

Decorations.

Parties.

Traditions.

All good things can become distracting things when they occupy the center.

For the Christian, Christmas is not ultimately about creating a mood.

It is about receiving a Person.

Jesus Christ.

The Savior.

The promised Messiah.

The Light of the world.

The Prince of Peace.

The Good Shepherd.

Before the gifts are opened, remember the Gift.

Hanukkah, Light, and Respect

Many of my Jewish friends and neighbors celebrate Hanukkah.

Christians should not appropriate Jewish observances or pretend theological differences do not matter.

But we can honor our Jewish friends, respect the history and meaning of their traditions, and recognize the deep biblical roots from which Christianity itself emerged.

Respect does not require theological vagueness.

Love does not require pretending differences are unimportant.

We can listen.

Learn.

Honor.

And remain honest about our faith in Jesus as Messiah.

Other Faiths, Other Traditions, One Invitation

Friends from other faiths may observe different holy days at different times of the year.

That diversity deserves respect rather than caricature.

My invitation, however, remains personal and clear.

Look at Jesus.

Listen to Jesus.

Read what He said.

Watch how He loved.

Consider His claims.

Consider His cross.

Consider His resurrection.

I do not need to disrespect another person’s faith in order to share mine.

Love makes room for honest conversation.

You are welcome here.
Your questions are welcome here.
And I will not hide Whom I trust.

Loneliness in a Season of Togetherness

Few things amplify loneliness like watching everyone else appear connected.

Social media shows crowded tables.

Families.

Trips.

Gifts.

Celebrations.

Meanwhile someone is eating alone.

Someone is grieving.

Someone is estranged.

Someone is caring for a spouse.

Someone cannot afford the trip home.

Someone simply feels forgotten.

If that is you, loneliness is not proof that you are unloved by God.

And if that is not you, look around.

Perhaps someone else’s answered prayer this season could begin with your invitation.

Give People Grace — Including Yourself

Not every invitation must be accepted.

Not every tradition must continue forever.

Not every dish must be homemade.

Not every disagreement must be resolved before New Year’s Eve.

Not every person needs access to unlimited amounts of your time.

There is no spiritual prize for exhaustion.

Discernment belongs in the holidays too.

Before saying yes, ask:

Do I have the capacity?

Is this loving?

Is this wise?

Is this necessary?

Am I serving from love—or performing from guilt?

A holy season does not require an exhausted soul.

Pride, Obsession, and the Narrow Way

Pride makes you decide.

Because selfishness and pride are so rampant worldwide, many people would place them on the “wide path.” They would be correct… partially.

Kindly think this through with me: Where do “obsessions” fit? People become obsessed with one thing or another—one dream, one person, one pursuit. Sometimes that list funnels into a single obsession that dominates an entire agenda.

Therefore, is it correct to say “obsessions” are on a wide path, and “obsession” is on a narrow path?

Yes and no!
A narrow focus is not necessarily the narrow way Jesus described.

(Matthew 7:13–14)

Can one consuming pursuit bring us closer to God—or become the very thing that keeps us from surrendering to Him?

Read more about that in my next book by Richard C.C. Noble.

Entertainment or Enlightenment? Why Not Both?

Do you prefer entertainment or enlightenment?

Did you know you can have both?

One book I continue to enjoy is The Five Love Languages by Dr. Gary Chapman. I didn’t just read it. I taught from it and directed an adult play inspired by it.

We called our play Love Me Tender. It followed two dysfunctional couples and their therapist as the couples learned to understand one another and express love more thoughtfully.

I had a blast directing it. Afterward, audience members told me they hadn’t laughed that hard in a long time.

Praise GOD, from whom all blessings flow!

One of my favorite parts of teaching acting was improvisation—responding in the moment without a script.

Life gives us plenty of opportunities to practice that!

Remember the thought from Chapter 12: “It’s easier to act like a Christian than to react like a Christian.”

Onstage, an unexpected remark can become a wonderful moment of comedy. Offstage, an unexpected remark can reveal how much patience we still need.

What comes out when we haven’t rehearsed?

That question keeps bringing me back to prayer.

“This you know, my beloved brethren. But everyone must be quick to hear, slow to speak and slow to anger;”

A Noble Prayer

Sometimes laughter opens a door through which understanding can enter. We recognize ourselves in a character, chuckle at a familiar misunderstanding, and suddenly have something worth pondering.

Could I be doing that, too?

I used to be the class clown. I love hearing laughter around me. In fact, my two favorite sounds are children’s laughter and the gentle, rhythmic waves of the ocean.

Some people dream of a home where the buffalo roam. My version?

“Give me an ocean of joyful children’s emotions—in the summertime and at Christmas time!”

A little rhyme. A little sunshine. And plenty of laughter.

Yet joy can take us deeper than amusement. A song, a story, or a moment of curiosity can turn our attention toward something spiritually significant.

K.I.S.S.—Keeping It Spiritually Significant

Did you know that in the Sikh faith, kirtan—the singing of sacred hymns—is central to worship and devotion?

Isn’t that something?

That sure is something!

It brings me back to a question about my own faith: When I sing praises to God, am I paying attention to what I am singing?

Am I simply following the melody, or allowing the words to become my prayer?

That is my little reminder:

K.I.S.S.—Keeping It Spiritually Significant.

And since we began with five love languages, here is another five worth learning about: the Sikh Five Ks.

Not to be confused with a 5K race! 😉

Initiated Sikhs are committed to maintaining five articles of faith:

• Kesh: uncut hair, often covered with a turban.
• Kangha: a comb, traditionally wooden.
• Kara: a steel or iron bracelet.
• Kachhera: a specially designed undergarment.
• Kirpan: a religious article resembling a sword or dagger.

Sikh men commonly use the name Singh, meaning “lion,” and Sikh women Kaur, commonly translated as “princess.” These shared names express dignity and equality across social divisions.

Learning about our neighbors gives us an opportunity to replace assumptions with understanding. As a follower of Jesus, I want my curiosity to be accompanied by the love He commands me to show.

And that brings the question home.

What do people learn about my faith from the way I treat them?

Do they hear kindness in my words? Experience patience in my company? Find room to laugh, ask an honest question, or share a sorrow?

I love a good laugh. I also love those moments when the laughter settles and something meaningful remains.

By the way, my favorite love language is Quality Time. What’s yours? Discover it—and learn the love languages of those you love.

Perhaps this holiday season, we can make room for both.

Something to enjoy.

Something to understand.

Something worth carrying into the way we love.

A Noble Prayer

Does My Celebration Reflect My Praise?

I celebrate Hallelujah always and Halloween never.

That is my personal conviction. Whatever our holiday choices, each of us can examine how we treat the people around us.

What a wicked web we weave when we practice to deceive.*

And how much evil begins when what I want matters more than whom I hurt?

During the holidays, that question can reach into our spending, our expectations, our family disagreements, and our insistence on having our own way.

Does the way I celebrate reflect the One I praise?

Lord, reveal where my desires have outrun my love. Teach me to celebrate Your goodness—and practice it.

*Adapted from Sir Walter Scott.

From Thanksgiving to Thanks-Living

Thanksgiving is a day.

Gratitude can become a life.

A meal ends.

A grateful pattern can continue.

The challenge is not simply to say thank You more often on one Thursday.

It is to notice grace differently on ordinary Tuesdays.

Perhaps the best way to carry Thanksgiving forward is to turn thanksgiving into thanks-living.

A story commonly attributed to Charles Dickens suggests that Americans should reserve one day for complaining and the other 364 for thanksgiving.

Why give gratitude a holiday when we can give it a home?

Receive gratefully.

Steward faithfully.

Give generously.

New Year, Same God

The calendar eventually turns.

And with it comes pressure.

New goals.

New resolutions.

New expectations.

New promises to become a completely different person by February.

There is nothing wrong with setting goals.

But January does not save us.

Christ does.

A new year can become a useful marker.

It is not a new Savior.

“The best way to predict the future is to create it.”

— Popular saying; authorship uncertain

We cannot control tomorrow. But we can choose a faithful step today—praying, planning, and acting while surrendering the outcome to God.

Instead of asking only:

What will I accomplish this year?

Ask:

Who am I becoming?

What pattern needs to change?

What unfinished good work needs faithful attention?

Where is God asking me to abide more deeply?

“The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision.”

— Attributed to Helen Keller

A new calendar can mark a beginning.
Only Christ makes us new.

A Holiday PPO

When the season becomes overwhelming, return to the simplest Prayer Post Office pattern:

Say it.

Tell God what is actually happening.

Send it.

Bring Him the people, pressure, grief, gratitude, bills, travel, expectations, and questions.

Surrender it.

Release the outcome you cannot control.

Then ask:

What is the next loving, wise, faithful thing I can do?

That may be enough.

Reflection

Before the Next Gathering

Ask yourself:

What am I expecting from this holiday season?

Which expectation is realistic?

Which one is creating unnecessary pressure?

Who am I grieving?

Who might need my encouragement?

Where do I need a boundary?

Where do I need forgiveness?

Where can I be generous?

What tradition helps me remember God?

What distraction keeps pulling me away from Him?

And:

What would a Christ-centered holiday actually look like for me this year?

Application

Your Holiday Survival Plan

Create five headings:

Pray

What do I need to bring honestly to God?

Simplify

What can I remove, reduce, decline, or stop trying to perfect?

Remember

Who or what deserves gratitude and remembrance?

Reach Out

Who might need encouragement, hospitality, prayer, or companionship?

Center

What practical action will keep Christ at the center of my celebration?

Then write:

“Lord, I release the perfect holiday and receive Your presence in the real one.”

A Noble Prayer

The holiday does not have to be perfect to become holy.
God can meet us in the celebration we actually have.