A Season of Waiting

Good morning from snowy New Hampshire. Snowy is my favorite kind of day!

There’s something about fresh snow that invites reflection, which feels fitting because this is also the season of waiting.

We’re all waiting for something right now.
Waiting for Christmas.
Waiting for New Year’s.
Waiting for time off, presents, travel plans, and family visits.
And for my Christian readers, waiting for the celebration of Jesus’ birth.

We talk about the holidays being busy, and they are, but much of that busyness comes from the business of waiting. Anticipation, preparation, expectation — they all mix together into a season that can feel magical for some and difficult for others.

I’ve never been particularly good at waiting. I’m a doer, not a ditherer. A get-it-done problem solver, not a hand-wringer. Holding patterns and limbo? Not my favorite place to be.

But every year, I’m reminded that waiting brings out a little bit of everything in people.
Some feel excitement and joy.
Some feel stress and anxiety.
Some feel hopeful.
Some feel heartbroken.
Some are grieving.
Some are worried about finances or facing hard decisions.
Some are simply trying to make it through the month.

Some feel all of the above at different moments of the day!

Waiting looks different for everyone.

That’s why this season asks us to do something simple but powerful: see the world through someone else’s eyes, especially when emotions are running high, and tension is in the air.
Take a moment to step into their shoes.
Be curious instead of judgmental.
Extend compassion to others and to yourself.

The holidays can be beautiful, complicated, joyful, painful, and everything in between. And still, through it all, if you listen hard enough, there’s a quiet reassurance underneath the bustle and anticipation.

The world is complicated and messy, but everything will work out. There’s more good in the world than bad. You can still be a positive influence even when you're struggling.

My recommendation?

Take a breath. Take your time. And gently release what no longer serves you: the unrealistic expectations, the old stories rooted in trauma or drama, and the worries you’ve borrowed from tomorrow.

I know it’s easier said than done, but giving yourself the gift of presence, even for a few small moments, can create a foundation of peace and joy that carries you forward for years to come.

Start small, but start today.
There’s no need to wait.