What Comes After Christmas

As I Was Saying is a forum for a variety of perspectives to foster faith-related conversations among our readers with the goal of mutual learning, even in disagreement. Apart from articles written by editorial staff, these perspectives do not necessarily reflect the views of The Banner.

The holidays have all come and gone. The turkey leftovers are long eaten, the Christmas lights packed away, and the jubilant strains of Auld Lang Syne feel like a distant echo. The decorations are packed into boxes in the basement, the lights have been removed from the house. January arrives with its cold winds and early evenings, a stark contrast to the warmth and joy of the festive season. For many Christians, this transition feels jarring; it can feel like a move from light into shadows.

The world seems quieter now. No more pageants, school concerts, or special church services. The sparkling celebrations that filled December are replaced with the monotony of winter days. Mornings arrive slowly, wrapped in fog and frost. Afternoons disappear too quickly into the horizon. It's still cold and dark, but the holiday cheer that warmed us for months is now gone. The world feels barren, a mirror of how many of us feel within—empty, tired, and longing for renewal. But even here, in this still and somber season, God is present.

In the stillness of January, when the gatherings have dispersed and the calendar feels heavy with obligations, there is an invitation, a whisper from the One who never leaves us. The psalmist captures this truth beautifully when he says, “Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!” (Psalm 139:7-8). God’s presence is not confined to the bright and celebratory moments of our lives. He is not merely the God of Christmas joy or Thanksgiving feasts but the God of ordinary, gray, winter days. His presence doesn’t dim when the lights are taken down or the music fades. God is as near to you in the quiet as he was in the clamor of celebration.

Think about this; as you sit by the window, staring at the bare trees outside, God’s Spirit is there, filling the emptiness with his steadfast love. This is not a season of abandonment, but one of invitation. We are invited to draw nearer to the God who sees us.

Winter is a season of darkness, but darkness has never intimidated our God. In fact, some of God’s most beautiful works are done in the shadows. Genesis tells us that the Spirit of God hovered over the formless void before light existed. Later, the psalmist proclaims, “Even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you” (Psalm 139:12). Think of Bethlehem. The Messiah was born at night, during a dark time in Israel’s history. Shepherds stood under the stars when the heavenly host proclaimed the news. John reminds us that “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). God was working his greatest redemption plan in the shadows, bringing light into the world.

Perhaps your life feels overshadowed by sadness, routine, or even despair. But take heart, for the same God who brought light to the darkness of Bethlehem is working in your life today. Just as the seed lies buried in the soil, waiting for spring, God is working in unseen ways, nurturing your soul in this quiet season. January’s emptiness can feel oppressive, but it also brings an opportunity to rediscover the beauty of simple, steady rhythms. The busyness of the holidays often eclipses the quiet disciplines of grace, but winter offers a chance to lean into those practices again. Picture a tree in winter. Its branches are bare, seemingly lifeless. Yet beneath the surface, its roots grow deeper, searching for water and nourishment. In the same way, this season can be a time for you to send your roots deeper into God’s Word, to drink deeply from the living water God provides.

Nourish

The psalmist describes the faithful person as one “planted by streams of water,” sustained by meditating on God’s law day and night (Psalm 1:2-3). This is your time to nourish your soul and to begin each morning with God’s Word and find comfort in prayer. Though the days might feel unremarkable, each one is an opportunity to grow in quiet dependence on God.

Winter’s chill has a way of isolating us. We’re tempted to stay indoors, to retreat into ourselves. Yet God created us for fellowship, and the church is a gift to be cherished, especially in the bleakness of winter. The writer of Hebrews encourages us in this when he says, “Let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another” (Heb. 10:24-25).

Think back to the joy of Christmas Eve worship, the candles, the songs, the pageantry, and the shared celebration. That same joy can be found when believers come together in ordinary moments. A shared meal, a Bible study, or even a simple phone call can remind you that you are not alone in this season. Reach out. Extend an invitation or accept one. You might find that the warmth of Christian fellowship is exactly what your soul needs to fend off the chill of these long months.

Winter’s beauty is stark, but it is beauty nonetheless. The frost on a windowpane, the quiet of falling snow, the skeletal outlines of trees against a gray sky—all of it proclaims the glory of God. As the psalmist declares, “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork” (Ps. 19:1). There is something sacred about stepping outside, even in the cold, and pausing to marvel at God’s creation. Wrap a scarf around your neck, pull on your gloves, and take a walk. Feel the crunch of snow beneath your boots or the sharpness of the wind on your cheeks. These moments, though simple, can lift your heart in worship.

It’s easy to associate gratitude with Thanksgiving and joy with Christmas, but these virtues are not seasonal. They are the marks of a believer’s life in every circumstance. Paul’s words in Thessalonians challenge us: “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances” (1 Thess. 5:16-18). Even in the dullness of winter, there is much to be thankful for. The roof over your head, the meals on your table, the laughter of a friend, the truth of the Gospel—these are all reasons to lift your heart in gratitude.

And above all, there is hope. Winter will not last forever. Spring is coming. The flowers will bloom again, the days will lengthen, and warmth will return. In the same way, every trial we endure points us to the ultimate hope of Christ’s return. Winter reminds us that we are pilgrims, waiting for the day when all things are made new. Winter is not a season to fear. It is a season to slow down, to rest, to deepen your faith. It is a time to remember that the God who was faithful in the brightness of the holidays is just as faithful in the shadows of January. So take heart, dear Christian. The same God who walked with you through the joy of Christmas walks with you now. God is present in the stillness, working in the darkness, and preparing you for what lies ahead. Winter is God’s season, too.