Silent Christmas
First Christmas alone
A Silent Morning, Still Holy
This Christmas morning is quiet.
Too quiet.
It is my first Christmas away from home, away from my family, away from the people who make noise feel like love
A new city. A new space. Just me and the morning light.
I promised my people I would not cry. I really did.
But love has a way of breaking promises gently.
My flatmate’s mum came to pick her up. She hugged me. She gave me a gift. A simple moment, yet it opened a floodgate. And suddenly, I missed my mum in a way words can barely carry.
I miss Christmas at home.
The resting.
The gathering.
The warmth.
I miss the easy joy of eating plenty meat. I miss walking into the kitchen, picking fried chicken and chin chin, and running back to my room like it was a sport. I miss the kind of happiness that did not need planning.
This morning, none of that is here.
But something else found me.
In the quiet of devotion, Christmas spoke back. Softly, clearly. Christmas is not just about food, outfits, and celebration. It is about Christ. About knowing Him, spending time with Him, and speaking of Him.
Celebrating the celebrity without knowing the Christ is empty. It looks full but it is hollow. Time passes. Money is spent. Effort is made. Yet the heart remains untouched.
A star was born, yes.
But the goal was never applause.
The goal was connection.
So this silent morning became sacred. No noise, yet full. No crowd, yet complete.
And I am sharing this with you, my dearly beloved.
As you celebrate today, pause for a moment. Before the rice and chicken. Before the pictures and laughter. Ask yourself if you know Him or if you only celebrate Him.
Do not just mark the day.
Meet the reason.
May your Christmas be more than loud joy. May it be deep joy.
Merry Christmas