This Christmas feels paradoxical. I wonder if you can relate. Part of me—the wife and mom in me—is looking forward to a simple celebration with those I love most. But my heart also … carries the weight of conflicting emotions. Perhaps my undercurrents of melancholy stem from the weather—less light each day, the blue sky of fall blanketed in gray, and nights that come sooner and lasts longer. It could also be because holidays and birthdays, historically, haven’t always felt so nostalgic or enjoyable.

And then there’s the loss of my dad, who I would’ve called today, despite the fact that he hated Christmas, and would likely tell me so. And the loss of my funny, brilliant and oh, so humble father-in-law two years prior.

Yet that’s also why Christmas feels so profound. Christ entered a world with relational, emotional, and global chaos. He saw our darkness and despair and didn’t turn away. Instead, He responded with a compassion that drew Him close. He left heaven’s glory, took on flesh, stepped into our brokenness, and later, carried the weight of the world’s sin and sorrow on His shoulders so we could experience healing, freedom, and relational intimacy with the God who never leaves.

When this season feels confusing, when praise and sorrow, joy and grief, intertwine, I celebrate because:

Christ came.
Pain and hardship won’t get the final say.
Love reigns.
Hope prevails.
Light remains and holds the power to chase the deepest darkness away.

If your heart feels torn…
If you’re grateful and grieving…
If you love the season but feel the ache beneath it…
If anxiety hums quietly in the background alongside your smiles…

I see you. I get it. And so does Jesus. On Christmas morning, He came for you. He’s still coming for you—in your hard and in your joy—and He won’t leave.

Because of His presence, Immanuel, God with us: “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light.”— Isaiah 9:2

Merry Christmas, friend. Hold tight to this truth: the best is yet to come.

When a Terminal Diagnosis Meets the Bigness of God: The True Story Behind I Can Only Imagine 2 Faith Over Fear

When we experience intense pain and hardship, our view of God can shrink.  When circumstances overwhelm us, prayers seem unanswered and our suffering endures for any length of time, we may fear God isn't actually big enough to handle what we’re facing, or loving enough to do something about it. Singer, songwriter and author Tim Timmons, whose story is shared in MercyMe's Imagine 2, knows what it means to live with those types of questions. After receiving an incurable cancer diagnosis and being given five years to live more than two decades ago, Tim has learned to bring his grief, questions and uncertainty honestly to God. In this episode, Tim and Jennifer discuss what it looks like to trust a God who is bigger than our understanding and meet Him within the tension of pain and hope. They explore the intimacy that can develop through honest wrestling, why acknowledging grief doesn’t diminish faith and how shifting from “working for God” to joining Him can change the way we approach each day. Wherever life feels confusing or painfully unresolved, God remains present, attentive and at work. Scripture referenced: Genesis 32:22–32; Matthew 5:44; Matthew 16:24–25; Matthew 22:37–39; Mark 12:30–31; John 5:17; Romans 8:28; Malachi 1:6–14 Resource Referenced: Waking Up Again: A Journey of Grief & Gratitude Connect with Tim Timmons: On his website On Instagram On Facebook Find Jennifer Slattery: On her website Instagram Facebook Amazon Subscribe to her free newsletter Discover more Christian podcasts at lifeaudio.com and inquire about advertising opportunities at lifeaudio.com/contact-us.
  1. When a Terminal Diagnosis Meets the Bigness of God: The True Story Behind I Can Only Imagine 2
  2. Bonus: Saturday Scripture Reset: When You Feel Unloved By God
  3. Why It's Hard to Receive God's Love and Rest in His Delight
  4. How to Move Forward in Seasons of Grief
  5. Did I Hear God Wrong? What to Do When Your Calling Doesn’t Go as Planned