12/21/2025
My mother in-law sent this to me and I wanted to share because I think it's something many of us need to read and be reminded of â¤ď¸
December 21 shows up every year quietly, without lights or songs or anyone baking cookies for it. It doesnât get an Advent calendar. No one puts it on a mug. But it might be one of my favorite days of the year anyway.
Because December 21 is the day the light turns around.
Itâs the shortest day. The longest night. The point where the darkness has stretched itself as far as it possibly can and physically cannot take one more minute. And from here on out, the days get longer. Not dramatically. Not all at once. But measurably. Even if you canât feel it yet.
Which feelsâŚon brand for God.
This is the day that feels like a Christmas present slipped under the tree early. No wrapping paper. No tag. Just the quiet knowledge that the light is coming back whether it feels like it or not.
And the wild part is that December 21 doesnât look hopeful. It doesnât feel warm. Nothing about it screams breakthrough. Itâs still dark when you wake up. Still dark before dinner. If you judged the situation by appearances alone, youâd say nothing has changed.
But something has.
The math has shifted. The trajectory has turned. The longest night has already passed by the time you realize it. Darkness has lost ground even though it still feels heavy.
Which is exactly how God works most of the time.
He doesnât usually flip a switch and flood your life with sunlight. He nudges the direction. He changes the arc. He does work underground, in silence, while everything still looks cold and unchanged.
Christmas works the same way. The world didnât get brighter overnight when Jesus was born. Rome was still Rome. Herod was still Herod. People were still struggling. But the light had arrived. And darkness had officially been put on a countdown it couldnât stop.
I think December 21 is Godâs little reminder that just because youâre still in the dark doesnât mean the dark is winning.
Sometimes the gift isnât immediate relief. Sometimes the gift is knowing this is as dark as it gets. The turning point already happened. Youâre just living in the early minutes of the change.
So if youâre tired. Or discouraged. Or wondering how much longer this season is going to last. Mark the day. The light has started its slow, stubborn return.
No fanfare. No fireworks. Just the quiet promise that the days ahead hold more light than the ones behind you.
And thatâs a pretty good Christmas present.
