Midweek Message December 4, 2025

As the holiday season gathers its familiar momentum—twinkling lights, calendars packed tight, and the cultural hum of more, more, more—I find myself leaning ever more toward the quiet places between the festivities. As Unitarian Universalists, many of us live at the crossroads of traditions, weaving together meaning from a diverse tapestry of spiritual practices. For those of us who also walk a Pagan path, this time of year invites an especially potent blend of reflection, reverence, and renewal.

In the Pagan wheel of the year, the winter season calls us into the deep stillness of the natural world. Animals burrow in. Trees conserve their strength. Even the sun, for a brief moment, appears to pause in its journey. Yule—the Winter Solstice—reminds us that before every expansion, there is a sacred contraction. Before every burst of spring, a restful hush.

And perhaps that’s why the simplest acts feel so precious right now.

There is holiness in lighting a single candle, watching its flame dance and remembering the promise of returning light. There is comfort in wrapping both hands around a warm mug of tea or cocoa, letting gratitude seep in with the heat. There is magic in stepping outside on a cold night, breath visible, stars crisp and unfiltered, and feeling the quiet presence of the earth supporting you.

These small acts do not demand extravagance. They do not require us to perform joy or sparkle brighter than we feel. Instead, they gently guide us toward the heart of the season—toward presence, toward connection, toward wonder.

In Unitarian Universalist communities, we honor the sacred in many forms. Whether your December is filled with Hanukkah candles, Christmas carols, Solstice fires, or none of the above, there is space here to celebrate what is most authentic for you. This season does not need to be busy to be meaningful. It does not need to be loud to be joyful. It does not need to be perfect to be sacred.

So let this be a gentle invitation: reclaim the simple things.

Notice the way the low winter sun paints gold across your living room floor. Savor the crisp scent of pine or the sweetness of a fresh-baked cookie. Listen closely—to the crackle of a fire, the rustle of a winter breeze, the quiet wisdom of your own intuition.

These moments, small as they are, can become quiet rituals of grounding and renewal. They remind us that stillness is not emptiness—it is nourishment. It is the space where we remember who we are, what matters, and what we hope to carry into the returning year.

As we move through this holiday season, may we find joy not in the rush, but in the pause. May we honor the sacred with intention. And may the light, however we celebrate it, find us once again.

Blessed be—and warm holiday wishes to you, exactly as you are.

Jolyn Emrys- Communication and Membership Manager