Is There a Perfect Holiday Season?
Letting Go of the Pressure and Leaning Into Peace
Have you ever entered December with a beautifully curated vision in your head—only to arrive at Christmas Eve frazzled, disappointed, and wondering why you feel more exhausted than blessed?
You’re not alone.
Many of us carry unrealistic expectations into the holiday season. We long for togetherness, but struggle with tension. We desire peace, but battle perfectionism. We hope for joy, but end up tangled in guilt, comparison, or unmet desires. Whether you're a mom trying to hold it all together, a grandma coordinating family schedules, or an adult child navigating family dynamics—this time of year can feel more overwhelming than merry.
I remember a Christmas years ago when I had worked so hard to make everything just right. I planned the meals, wrapped the gifts with care, coordinated the details, and set my hopes on that “cozy family moment” I had pictured in my head. But when the day came, emotions ran high, plans unraveled, and nothing looked like what I imagined. I found myself in the kitchen, quietly crying, wondering, Why does this feel so hard?
In that moment, the Lord whispered something gently convicting: You’re chasing something I never asked you to create. I had made perfection the goal, not peace. I had wrapped the holiday in expectations that were quietly rooted in control, not surrender.
And if I’m honest, I still wrestle with it. I still find myself slipping into performance mode, measuring the “success” of the season by how smooth everything feels or how happy everyone seems. But year by year, God keeps pulling me back—not to productivity, but to presence. Not to flawless moments, but to faithful ones.
Peace doesn’t come when everything goes according to plan. It comes when I choose to rest in Christ, even when things fall apart. That’s a lesson I’m still learning—but it’s one I want to keep returning to, especially in this season.
The Lie of the "Perfect" Christmas
At the root of our holiday stress is often a quiet idol of perfection. We imagine the perfect table, perfect tree, perfect family moment—and when real life inevitably falls short, it wounds our spirit.
But the Gospel reminds us: perfection was never the goal—peace was. And peace doesn’t come from flawless traditions. It comes from a Person.
“For unto us a Child is born… and He shall be called Prince of Peace.” — Isaiah 9:6
Christmas is not a performance to execute—it’s a Person to receive. And that truth frees us from the pressure to manufacture something magical and instead, embrace what is real, redemptive, and rooted in Christ.
What Unrealistic Expectations Steal From Us
When we set the bar at perfection, we often:
Put pressure on ourselves to create Pinterest-worthy moments instead of heart-level memories.
Expect our children to behave like angels—while our own hearts are stressed and reactive.
Compare our family to others—forgetting that every gathering includes broken people in need of grace.
Miss opportunities for connection because we're fixated on control.
Place silent pressure on our spouses and extended family—expecting them to meet unspoken emotional needs, fill gaps in our plan, or act according to the script we’ve written in our minds.
The weight of our expectations doesn’t just burden our own hearts—it spills over onto the people we love most. A spouse may feel like they’re constantly falling short. A child may feel the tension they can’t name but desperately want to fix. A relative may dread gathering because they sense they’ll never measure up to the version we silently hoped for.
And that’s where the call to release perfection becomes not just personal, but relational.
Legacy Parenting reminds us to prioritize the heart, not the image. We’re not discipling our children through well-executed events—we’re shaping their understanding of love, grace, and joy in the midst of imperfection. That starts with how we manage our expectations—and how we extend the same grace we long to receive.
A Better Way Forward This Season
Instead of aiming for perfection, what if we pursued faithfulness?
Faithfulness to pause and seek Christ.
Faithfulness to love the people in front of us—even when it’s messy.
Faithfulness to create space for peace, wonder, and laughter.
This is the beauty of parenting and grandparenting from a principle-based lens: our goal isn’t image management—it’s heart-level transformation. And often, the most sacred moments come in the interruptions, not the orchestrated plans.
So this year, let’s lower the bar of perfection and raise the bar of presence.
Three Heart-Level Shifts for a Meaningful Christmas
1. Trade Control for Curiosity
It’s easy to slip into “holiday manager” mode—coordinating meals, planning the perfect schedule, making sure every detail is handled. But often, in our effort to create meaningful moments, we forget to ask what actually matters most to the people we love.
Instead of trying to control the atmosphere, try cultivating curiosity. Ask your children or grandchildren:
“What’s your favorite part of Christmas?”
“What makes it feel special to you?”
“Is there anything you’d love for us to do differently this year?”
Their answers might surprise you. It may not be the elaborate dinner or the perfectly wrapped gift—it might be sitting in pajamas and watching a movie together, baking cookies, or just being with you.
When we trade control for curiosity, we create space for connection. We begin to see the season through their eyes, not just through our expectations. And in doing so, we disciple their hearts—not by executing the “perfect plan,” but by showing them that their voice, their heart, and their experience matter.
This is the essence of relational discipleship: not just leading at our children, but walking with them.
2. Let Go of the Highlight Reel
It’s hard to enjoy what’s in front of you when you’re constantly measuring it against everyone else’s highlight reel.
Social media, holiday movies, and even well-meaning traditions can make us feel like we’re missing something—like our Christmas isn’t quite beautiful enough, spiritual enough, peaceful enough. But God never asked us to compete with anyone else’s story. He asked us to be faithful in ours.
Take a breath. Look around the room. These people—your imperfect, ordinary, sometimes chaotic family—are the exact ones God has given you to reflect His grace, mercy, and presence this season.
Letting go of the highlight reel means choosing presence over performance. It means remembering that the Gospel came into the middle of real life—not a perfectly decorated home, but a messy stable. Not a peaceful night, but a world in need.
This Christmas, you don’t need a picture-perfect memory to be obedient. You need a soft heart and open hands.
3. Celebrate the Imago Dei in Each Person
So often, we want our holiday gatherings to feel harmonious and seamless—which can lead us to subtly expect everyone to behave, think, or respond the same way.
But what if the differences around your table aren’t distractions—they’re divine design?
Biblical Parenting teaches us that each child—and each family member—is an image-bearer of God. Their personalities, preferences, strengths, and even struggles are part of how they reflect Him. Our role isn’t to mold everyone into our version of “holiday success,” but to honor the Imago Dei in them.
Maybe one child needs quiet. Another thrives with activity. A spouse processes slower. An adult sibling brings a different worldview to the table. We can choose to control—or we can choose to celebrate the sacred uniqueness in each one.
This shift doesn’t mean abandoning boundaries or ignoring tension—it means we come with a posture of grace. We choose to see the person, not just the problem. And that simple choice is a reflection of Christ Himself.
Final Thought
There’s no such thing as a perfect holiday season—but there is such a thing as a peaceful one.
Not because the food is flawless or the family drama is absent—but because your heart is anchored. Because you've laid down the idol of perfection and picked up the presence of Emmanuel—God with us.
And that changes everything.
“You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You.” — Isaiah 26:3
I’m still learning this.
Still learning to let go of expectations that quietly creep in and set me up for disappointment. Still learning to focus on what is—not what I hoped would happen, or what I saw someone else post. Still learning to celebrate the small, quiet moments that hold eternal weight… the laughter in the kitchen, the unexpected conversation, the sweet glance across the room.
I’m learning to let things happen more naturally—not orchestrated to impress, but offered with intentionality. To ask the Lord, What do You want this season to look like? And to listen more closely to the hearts of the people I love. If I’m honest, I have to remind myself of all of this often. I certainly haven’t arrived.
And as I look back—especially on the memories with loved ones who are no longer with us—I see so clearly that the most meaningful moments weren’t planned. They weren’t polished. But they were present. They were real. They were full of love.
And that’s what I want more of. Not perfect... just faithful.
So here’s to choosing peace over perfection. Presence over pressure. And Christ—always Christ—at the center of it all.
