I have been using Linux on my older ASUS laptop for roughly four days now, and I didn’t even need to open Windows for anything. I tested three distros in the meantime, but I mostly used Ubuntu 25.10 to perform tests on all the activities I normally do on Windows, to see if I could make them work.

✅ Things that are working now:

• Dropbox: I installed Dropbox, and now it works, it’s syncing locally, which I like. But the Dropbox pricing is kinda expensive (min plan is 2TB) and I read some issues they had with privacy, so that is a bit concerning to me, since privacy is one of the reasons I'm switching to Linux.
• OneDrive: actually, I added the Microsoft 365 to the Online Accounts option in Settings, and it just worked! I can access all the OneDrive files virtually. I want to use this as a transition space until I'm totally switched to another cloud service. This only worked properly with Ubuntu 25.10.
• pCloud app: I installed the pCloud app and it worked! Everything is syncing! I really like this service. I am thinking of getting the 500Gb plan to test out and transfer my entire OneDrive to pCloud. It syncs superfast, and I can access everything on the web and on my phone. There’s also an option to sync files locally, which I tested. It’s cheaper than Dropbox, and they even offer lifetime plans. Also, super easy to use and set-up on Linux.
• Thunderbird: Email syncing with Outlook worked well, no issues there. I had a hard time syncing the calendar, though. I had to install plugins (TbSync & Provider for Exchange/Office 365 add-ons for automatic syncing). At first, the syncing produced a bunch of errors. I removed and re-added the account, waited a bit longer, and then it finally started syncing. Now all the calendars I selected are synced. I’m not sure if the syncing errors will happen again, so this is something to monitor. This setup is also a workaround until I switch to another calendar service.
• I also tried the GNOME calendar, which looks great, I love it! But I couldn't get the Outlook Calendar to show up in there. Google Calendar syncs instantly after adding Google via the Online Accounts settings. Interesting how much easier it is to sync compared to Outlook.
• I connected the Kobo to Ubuntu via USB. It was recognized, it charges and connects to Calibre, no problem.
• Bluetooth speakers: my JBL speakers work perfectly!!
• Firefox: Installed an extension on Firefox to create PWA apps from the web.
• Calibre/e-Book/DRM: I tried a bunch of stuff, including suggestions from readers of my blog (thank you so much!🤗). What ultimately worked was installing WINE and emulating Adobe Digital Editions along with the de-DRM app on Linux. So I did it! It’s the same process I use on Windows. But I found out how that the DRM plugin on Calibre works, and it can remove DRM from any book when I connect my Kobo to the computer, so that’s cool! I can de-DRM books that I purchased on Kobo, which I was never able to do before.
• Nautilus: The file explorer Nautilus annoyed me quite a lot, and the customization options are not great. But I found an alternative: Nemo. Installing it with sudo apt install nemo gives me just what I need (like resizing the sidebar).
• Keyboard shortcuts: I learned how to make a custom keyboard shortcut to open new Nautilus/Nemo windows! I am still learning the usual keyboard shortcuts.

💿 Some distros I tried out

• Kubuntu 25.10: it's so cute! I love how it looks! However, the Online Accounts option was not there at all! So I couldn't find a way to connect to OneDrive or Google. That makes it kind of useless for me right now during this transition period, though it might be an option in the future.
• Linux Mint 22.3 (beta): nice and looks great, lots of customization options. But I also couldn't connect to Microsoft (there is an error when it goes to the login page, the webpage to authenticate shows that it's an unauthorized service from Microsoft).
• Ubuntu 24.04.3 LTS: I went back to my first install in the HDD, and for some reason the Microsoft account connected only works for the calendar, but not for the files. Weird. I think Ubuntu 25.10 is the best option for me right now.
• I’ve heard about Zoran OS and Bazzite, but didn't try them. They seem to be kinda similar at first glance, and I think I still prefer Ubuntu for now. I don’t want to spend a lot of time distro-hopping, because that will lead me into decision paralysis.
• 🎯 CONCLUSION: I will start with Ubuntu 25.10. This version gave me all the options and functionalities I needed to get started. And I got used to the GNOME interface surprisingly quickly. I began appreciating the somewhat minimalistic vibes.

📌Some Videos that I watched about choosing a distro:

• Choosing Your First Linux Distro by ExplainingComputers
• How to Choose the Right Linux Distribution | Best Linux for Beginners Explained by tektoc
• Linux Mint 22.3 | Close Look at the Cinnamon Menu 6.6 by Switched to Linux
• Linux Mint vs Ubuntu: Which Is Better for You? by PulsarTECH

⏭️ Next Steps

• I’m doing a full backup of my OneDrive files to my external SSD.
• Other files I want to back up: My Steam library game saves (I’m not sure all saves are stored online) and my Calibre Library (I will export a backup file).
• Do a final installation of Ubuntu 25.10 on my main laptop (ThinkPad X1 Carbon) and test all the hardware and functionalities to start using it as my daily driver for personal use.
• Figure out what I want to do about the online/cloud services I use: cloud storage, digital calendar, emails.

#linux #tech

By now my parishioners know that I love to share little historical anecdotes from time to time. Like my twice-annual explanation for why we might wear pink rose vestments in Advent and Lent. Or my contention that the conception of Jesus happened during the events celebrated during the Feast of the Visitation and not the Anunciation (the Magnificat being the outward sign that the Holy Spirit had filled Saint Mary). One such anecdote involves a beloved hymn heard during the Christmas shopping season: “Good King Wenceslas,” the brass melody an easy short-hand for demonstrating on film that it is Christmastime (the first shot of the toy store in Home Alone 2 comes to mind). And of course this.

“Good King Wenceslas” is, technically, not a Christmas hymn. It is, properly, a hymn for Stephensmas (to use the old English term for the Feast of Saint Stephen the Martyr). The hymn itself recounts the story of a beloved and saintly king who, on “the Feast of Stephen,” one bitterly cold and snow-laden, braved the elements to bring fuel and supplies to a poor man. The tune, which sounds like it was generated in a lab to be a Christmas carol, was actually written for a song meant to be sung at Easter.

Anyway, this is an overlong introduction to talk about Saint Stephen, whose feast day is today and marks the first of the daily commemorations for the first week of Christmas, through the Feast of the Holy Name (which coincides with our New Years celebrations in the Western Christian tradition). Saint Stephen is the “protomartyr,” the first Christian to be executed for the crime of being Christian. He was among the first deacons in the church (called alongside Saint Philip, among others) and was stoned to death after testifying about Jesus before the high council of Jewish religious leaders (also known as the Sanhedrin).

Different church traditions hold to different dates to commemorate Saint Stephen. In Western traditions (of which the Episcopal Church is part) the custom has been to commemorate him on the day after Christmas, perhaps as a means to mark that his death was a kind of birth itself, the Christian faith beginning to coalesce into a definable movement of its own and not simply a movement happening only within Judaism. Stephen’s death inspires a radicalized rabbi named Saul of Tarsus to begin a process of systemic elimination of “the Way” (as Christians were known back then), thus fostering closer ties among the nascent Christian movement as well as distance between them and their own people (remember, at this time all Christians were Jews). Further, the death of Saint Stephen elucidated our understanding of the Incarnation—not only is Christ enfleshed among and within us, but our flesh is subject to the same violence and suffering experienced by Jesus. The broken flesh and shed blood of the eucharistic bread and wine prefigure our own breaking and shedding-of-blood as well as that of Christ Jesus. As the old Augustinian fraction anthem puts it: “Behold the mystery of your salvation laid out for you; behold what you are, become what you receive.”

This all sets a tone for us Christian that we are often quick to forget: a faith that holds to the Incarnation hardly results in a faith that has guarantees of wealth and comfort. Indeed, the Incarnation expects that we be willing to give up creature comforts and conveniences (said by a Christian who lives quite comfortably in comparison to much of the world).

To invite the Incarnate God into our midst is to invite suffering and rejection.

All of the saints commemorated during these next several days speak to that fact: Saint John the Evangelist, the Holy Innocents, Saint Thomas a Becket. We don’t have official commemorations on the 30th, but we will be exploring the life of Saint Anysia of Thessalonica, a saint in Eastern Christianity that is remembered on that day. These are all either martyrs or exiles, rejected and killed because they accepted that God was born in a manger and that He chose to save us from ourselves.

And much of this begins with Stephen. His testimony in Acts 7 is confrontational, but the major point he tries to make is that God is not relegated to a resplendent temple in Jerusalem. Rather, God has chosen His home among us, among the things He has made. We have God in our midst, but those who claim religious authority tend to miss that fact and use violence to silence those who make that point. These were, in effect, Stephen’s last words before irony was lost and he was killed with rocks.

As we live in the liminal time between Christmas and New Years, spending time with family and friends and perhaps even exchanging gifts still, we would do well to remember that there are those huddled together because bombs are dropping on them in Ukraine, or militants are hunting them in Nigeria or Sudan, or they are cold and starving in Gaza. They are hiding from ICE, or bound together in an internment facility. Such was Stephen, in a jail cell until his interrogation, the day after Christmas.

God came to us incarnate. That incarnation happened among those who suffer. And even in the midst of that suffering, seeing the faces of those who hate us, we might be able to join Saint Stephen and say:

Look! I can see heaven on display and the Human One standing at God’s right side! Lord Jesus, accept my life! Lord, don’t hold this sin against them!

... The Rev. Charles Browning II is the rector of Saint Mary’s Episcopal Church in Honolulu, Hawai’i. He is a husband, father, surfer, and frequent over-thinker. Follow him on Mastodon and Pixelfed.

Prologue ~

I approach the door I see in my dreams. The shifting dreams I've had for the past few nights. Sometimes its the same door, sometimes it's new. So each night, I focus and describe it in this journal The door, so that one night I can choose.

Glass Door

A frozen bubble, that's all I can think to describe it.

As I walk around, I let my fingers glide over its smooth surface.

Looking through, I can see a warmth, but just enough that I know im also seeing through the structure.

Its tall, so that as I let my mind wander, my hands travel up and travel down, walking and playing towards its end.

But its a circle, so it has none, until my fingers flinch and withdraw

My blood illuminating a small indent, flowing, thinning into spirals and sanguine highlights

The door is before me, calmly pulsing with my blood outline.

“So” I say to the door “You're a hungry one”

It must have heard, or maybe it was ready to open. I don't know, but it did.

Within, the glass, was a rainbow sun. Rippling with spiking shards of fractured screaming geometry.

The tiny, sharp star, was aglow of anguish made tempered glass Erupting and falling into itself like prism

Like a focus and a distraction A god of intricate deadly planning

I had opened its door, scared I opened my eyes

The words hung in my ears as close as my thudding heartbeats

“I'm starving”

#poetry #doors

Even when the night was clear the clouds hung just on edge as if waiting for the starlight to lose humility, just enough and give them allowance to this a most special night.

But so far so well.

The moonlight was shining The starlight was glamouring The winter chill had finally dimmed

A quiet, hush flung itself across the chilled lake.

As, the smallest of creatures began Like sparks from waxing of a candle flame Made their ways From the inside places, cold places, of the oldness of the world.

Shyly at first they bleed out onto the lake Then more, they grew, finally confident in their steps.

The flowed onto the lake, taking their places.

So began a dance, that no one saw underneath the winter solstice moon.

#poem #poetry

Lydia's Weekly Lifestyle blog is for today's African girl, so no subject is taboo. My purpose is to share things that may interest today's African girl.

This week's contributors: Lydia, Pépé Pépinière, Titi. This week's subjects: The Future Is Fashion: 2026 Trends to expect in West Africa , Will the beard continue through 2026? Ministry of Sick Care, (M.O.S.C), and The Venue

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The Future Is Fashion: 2026 Trends to expect in West Africa. If 2025 taught us anything, it’s that West Africa is no longer “catching up” to global fashion — we’re setting the pace. From Accra to Lagos, Abidjan to Dakar, the region is buzzing with bold creatives, fearless dressers, and a new wave of Afro-luxury that’s ready to take over 2026. So buckle up, fashionistas — here are the trends that will be shaping our wardrobes in the year ahead. Neo-Ankara: The Rise of Tech-Infused Traditional Prints. 2026 is the year Ankara evolves — again. Think glow-infused fabrics, reflective details for nightlife, weather-adaptive cotton blends, and digital patterns inspired by AI art. Designers are merging tradition with tech to create prints that feel futuristic yet undeniably African. Expect thermo-reactive motifs, 3D-embroidered patterns, and Ankara suits reimagined for corporate slay queens and kings. The Return of Tailored Power Dressing: Sharp shoulders. Cinched waists. Sculpted silhouettes. Power dressing is back — but softer, sleeker, and more Afro-centric. In 2026, West African tailoring will focus on fluid suits, tone-on-tone styling, minimalist metallic accents, and gender-neutral structured pieces. Corporate wardrobes will lean into cool neutrals like clay, sand, kola-nut brown, and millet gold. Afro-Resort Wear Every Day: With travel culture exploding, resort wear is no longer just for holidays. Get ready for linen sets, crochet dresses, flowy kaftans, and raffia accessories as everyday staples. Designers are embracing breezy, breathable fabrics perfect for West African heat — but serving effortless elegance. Statement Accessories: Bigger, Bolder, Brighter 2026 accessories in West Africa are loud and unapologetic: Oversized artisan jewelry Hand-carved wooden clutches Beaded crowns inspired by royalty Geometric sunglasses Stacked anklets It’s the year of maximalist accessorizing, driven by a renewed love for craftsmanship and heritage. Will the beard continue through 2026? Out of nowhere all men started to grow beards, maybe it is because of that footballer, and indeed some look like goats that have fleas, constantly scratching and pulling, and would be better off shaving. Anyway, let them get a taste of what we women are suffering to look the part. And I am glad that I did not invest my money in a shaving blade factory like Gilette (turnover 89 Billion $) and Schick, they must be financially suffering and selling hair growth products now. And remember, if you shave (blog nr 166, 22nd August, 2025), there are no special blades for females, it's just the same stuff in a different packaging, but at a higher price. So just buy the cheaper male blade. Or borrow hubbie's if he still has some laying around.

Ministry of Sick Care, (M.O.S.C) P. O. Box M 44 Sekou Toure Avenue, North Ridge, Accra. Kofi Asmah's recent article in MyJoyOnline is worth reading. https://www.myjoyonline.com/kofi-asmah-the-stethoscope-that-kills/ And I have some observations. Health care in Ghana is rather sick care, few care about your health, but everybody is ready to take your money when you are sick. This sick care is very lucrative, to the extent that the Ministry of Health (that's the official name) had to introduce a minimum distance of 400 meter between pharmacies, if not there would be 10 pharmacies in every street. And private hospitals are also springing up like mushrooms, presently there are about 430 in and around Accra. The often played trick is to admit you, take your blood and urine, put you on the drip, release you after 2 days and charge 500 for this, without any conclusion. If you need intravenous antibiotics for a week they’ll rather take you in, at a good expense, than suggest that you come daily for 1 hour, which would save you about 800 GHC or more, but give them a similar reduced income. To observe you, they say. But please observe the bill. And we play helpless, doctor says.... and we follow (and pay) without asking any questions. It is worth reading up on living healthy and try to stay away from these blood sucking sick care practitioners who see you as a source of income rather than someone who needs help on a little budget. In the beginning all you read may sound like akadablabladabakra, (try to pronounce) but after some time you will become familiar with the terms used. And start to live more healthy, be sick less often, feel better, perform better, look better and save money.

The Venue Adjiringanor, East Legon, Accra. My guest wanted to eat fresh lobster, but that is not so easy these days, the Chinese are buying everything before it gets to us. But after a couple of phone calls we settled on the Venue, yes, they had fresh lobsters. The Venue is a nice place, feels cozy and homely. There's a huge bar and an enormous assortment of drinks, and the tables are set such that after your cocktail or whatever you can have a quiet undisturbed discussion at a table with your partner for the evening. Service is smooth. The menu has a bit of everything, French, Italian, Dutch, Ghanaian, you'll find something to suit your like. Which in our case was fresh lobsters. Which were not fresh. Maybe the one we spoke to on the phone had understood that we wanted to know if their lobsters were not spoilt so she confirmed that they were fresh? Same thing often goes for eggs, even after 30 days they are still called fresh. And if you really want fresh lobster? I go to a busy Chinese restaurant like Royal Regal in Osu where they have a lot of turnover so they regularly buy fresh lobster and serve.

Lydia...

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The Baltimorons 2025, Duplass Brothers Productions, Directed by Jay Duplass (4 out of 5 Hot Chocolates)

Read more #100HotChocolates reviews

There is a recent tradition of established film directors giving their elevated spin on the Christmas movie. See Alexander Payne’s The Holdovers and David Gordon Green’s Nutcrackers. Mumblecore filmmaker Jay Duplass is the 2025 entry.

Baltimorons is a melancholy May-December Rom-Com between a disillusioned millennial improv comedian and a divorced post-menopausal dentist in a mid-life rut. Their day-long accidental adventure reignites their joy for life, against a backdrop of grimy urban Christmas pastiche.

Duplass mines the beats and tropes of a holiday romance but eschews the holly-jolly trappings of Hallmark for a realistic take on loneliness and connection.

Watch it.

#movies #ChristmasMovies #IndieFilm #RomCom #HolidayMovies #100HotChocolates #JayDuplass #DuplassBrothers #ChristmasReview #100WordReview #Larrys100 #100DaysToOffload

Photo © Gilles Le Corre Courtesy of Gilles Le Corre & ADAGP

Gas leak smell of sawn elder: an alarm call

On Christmas eve, were exactly four snowflakes gently falling from the star clear sky where the moon hung thin like in a fairy tale.

Four are a perfect number: one could be brushed off for a dandruff, but four is a strong enough pattern that confirms the bare minimum presence of falling snow.

Twenty five or thirty years ago exactly on this day I remember a darkened kitchen with a single candle burning on the kitchen table, outside it was very dark — black even — even though the white snow outside was deep to the thighs.

My cousin had bought us each an identical transformers toy, it was Ratchet, he who could transform into an ambulance. This toy had a motorcycle for some reason, because this variant couldn’t transform and so he needed the motorcycle presumably.

Anyway his father melted the tyre of mine, so it became deformed and assymetrical, over this burning flame

And my cousin traded his for mine

And I remember I thought this was fair, because it was his father who did it

It was his father who was a wacko

So it was only fair that he’d got the deformed motorcycle

But nothing about this was

Fair

Our Father Who art in heaven Hallowed be Thy name Thy Kingdom come Thy will be done on Earth as it is in heaven Give us this day our daily Bread And forgive us our trespasses As we forgive those who trespass against us And lead us not into temptation But deliver us from evil

Amen

Jesus is Lord! Come Lord Jesus!

Come Lord Jesus! Christ is Lord!

We are the three happy years And we come with April May Who claims to know Saint John A world away from England Every blessed evening We change the drinking water And have a surefelt destiny To undesert and witness While shaking frozen hands To cheers for re-reunion And we welcome you aboard.

💚💚💚

I’m exhausted. I would have killed myself if I had a gun in front of me, but that’s honestly such a low bar. Click, and then peace. No more worries, no uncertainty or fear anymore. Is that even that bad of a thing to say?

lo que puede ser olvidado es diferente a lo que es necesario recordar / lo que queda atrás es un sueño y lo que importa / como masticar el pan también

#NSFW

This post is NSFW 19+ Adult content. Viewer discretion is advised.

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(Screenshot: Yua Mikami #1 TEK-071, Debut / #2 OAE-101)

In Connection With This Post: Sana Mashiro .01 https://hustin.art/sana-mashiro-01

Mainstream celebrities, driven by the capitalist system, are generally armored with meticulous self-management and defensive personas that leave almost no room for subtle public intimacy. Yua Mikami, who debuted in 2015 after being a member of the Japanese idol group SKE48 since 2009, is the quintessential example of this celebrity attribute transplanted into JAV.

While such “perfected AV idols” undoubtedly offer overwhelming visuals and sexual performances, their professional personas are so formidable that even as viewers stare at their fully exposed vulvas being penetrated by penises, an inherent barrier prevents them from naturally experiencing a sense of “conquest” or “defenseless innocence.” AV performers are images of celebrities who have entered the AV industry to become “underground stars”; their self-direction is intense, and their eyes exude an active, professional energy. They feel like another “celebrity” rather than the “naive girlfriend sitting right next to me.” Consequently, most innocent idol-type JAV actresses possess a kind of “paradoxical lack within perfect purity.”

It is at this precise juncture that Sana Mashiro reveals a decisive departure from Yua Mikami, who has long been regarded as the most sophisticated replica of a mainstream idol. The peculiar déjà vu—that specific 'I’ve seen her somewhere before' vibe—that Mashiro evokes is not merely a matter of simple resemblance. Her unique position lies in the fact that she fundamentally alters the visual-perceptual conventions of consuming the private records (Vlogs) of Pan-Asian pop idols. While many AV actresses, including Mikami, have featured vlog-style clips within their works, the core difference here is not that Mashiro is “directed like an idol,” but that the viewer enters a psychological state of observing an idol’s mundane daily life. It is a memory of the attitude triggered when watching a non-celeb's private documentary or YouTube vlog. Rather than the sensation of “watching a porn star,” it is a “viewing mode” of someone's ordinary life—naturally becoming close as one indifferently follows their routine.

If Yua Mikami transplanted the “gaze toward a perfected mainstream idol” into AV, Mashiro brings the “indifferent viewing attitude of a non-celeb's vlog” into the frame. Even in a vlog, Mikami remains a “celebrity experience.” In contrast, within Mashiro's AV, the viewer undergoes a “psychological defection” from the generic awareness that they are consuming porn. She treats the camera not as a spectator’s gaze come to voyeuristically observe a star, but as a lens capturing her own life naturally and calmly. The public is already accustomed to such faces and expressions. This is an “uncanny familiarity” that even existing innocent idol types could not easily achieve. In this upgraded déjà vu—entering a state of doubtlessly watching a vlog rather than “watching an idol”—Mashiro's unique hyper-realism operates. This subtle, mundane familiarity is radically subverted by extreme obscenity, qualitatively changing the intensity of the psychological shock and arousal. It is a rare mutation within the JAV genealogy.

Another decisive point lies in the shocking “cross-paradox”: while possessing this strong non-celeb's familiarity, she simultaneously evokes the feeling of a top-class idol newly emerging within the mainstream industry—a “third-zone version” of Yua Mikami’s caliber. Her stunning beauty, which would allow her to debut as a top-tier star in the public entertainment world today, is crucial to this detailed evaluation of her. Even the director, in her debut pre-strip interview, remarks, “You look like an idol!“—a reaction that involuntarily blurted out, even though the industry is so jaded by an oversaturation of idol-like imagery that such a remark should have felt weary and redundant.

Sana Mashiro possesses a face that rivals mainstream stars, yet she displays a state of “ontological defenselessness.” She clearly carries the “vulnerability” of a dazed beauty. Constitutionally, she has a voluptuous build, with a thick hip-pelvis-thigh contour. (Despite the mosaic blur) as is common with such curvaceous lower frames, her labia majora appear thick enough to substantially cover the labia minora. Due to their minimal protrusion and lack of maturity, the labia minora reveal themselves only when the labia majora are pried apart. These small, passively tucked-away minora are read as another layer of 'pure vulnerability' in contrast to her fully matured body. Her pubic hair is not exactly lush, yet it is appropriately distributed in dark, dusky brown tones around the labia majora.

As the unvarnished Real of an all-too-human body is unveiled beneath such a paragon of idol face, Sana Mashiro’s performance functions as a top-tier version where one can witness the stark exposure of the most beautiful 'innocent idol's' vulva as her cute hole is intensely poked by fingers or a cock, eventually culminating in the supple, brilliant eruption and drenching overflow of her pussy juices. After her vagina has been sufficiently—and safely—indulged, Mashiro demurely sinks to her knees and, with a deeply absorbed expression, dutifully encloses the thick penis with her dainty mouth. The exotic and thrilling friction that arises in the moment when the foreskin is rubbed against the glans pushes the transgressive pleasure of the paradoxical interplay between protecting and conquering a girl with a mainstream idol appearance—under conditions of minimal inherent moral resistance—to its peak. It is a “response of authenticity” and a “fervent tribute” to her unique hyper-realistic manifestation of primal vitality, overwhelming the existential shame inherent in the impulsive act. (Screenshot: Sana Mashiro #1 MIDA-381 / #2–#6 MIDA-210, Debut)

In Connection With This Post:

#JAV #PornAesthetics #SanaMashiro #debut2025

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A Letter on the Meaning of Christmas

en español al final

When I was nine years old, I wrote a short story for my reading class about the true meaning of Christmas.

I don’t remember every word of it, but I remember the instinct behind it—the sense that Christmas was about something deeper than gifts, noise, or performance. Even then, I knew it wasn’t a holiday you could reduce to decoration or tradition alone.

I didn’t outgrow that understanding.

I had to live long enough for it to be tested.

Now I am older, and I carry a fuller understanding of what Christmas truly means—not because life made it easier to believe, but because it made it harder not to.

Christmas does not arrive in a gentle world.

It never has.

It comes into a world marked by conflict, fear, division, and exhaustion. A world that measures worth by productivity, power, attention, and certainty. A world that tells us to harden ourselves, to win, to protect our own, to move faster, louder, and stronger than everyone else.

We are being trained to react, to choose sides quickly, to measure worth by volume and visibility. Christmas interrupts that training. It does not shout. It does not coerce. It does not demand alignment. It simply arrives.

That is precisely what Christmas contradicts.

Christmas is not about resolution.

It is not about reward for good behavior.

It is not about pretending that suffering can be wrapped up neatly by the end of December.

Christmas is about God choosing nearness over distance.

It is about hope arriving without leverage.

About light appearing without explanation.

About love entering the world without demanding that the world be ready for it.

Nothing about the birth of Christ suggests control, dominance, or spectacle. There is no triumphal entrance, no proof offered, no conditions set. Just presence. Just vulnerability. Just a refusal to stay removed from human pain.

That is the cost of Christmas.

God does not bypass suffering—He enters it.

He does not eliminate waiting—He inhabits it.

He does not solve the world from above—He walks into it from below.

I understand Christmas more fully now not because I know more—but because I have been untrained from believing that power looks loud, fast, or victorious.

This year has taught me how unfinished life can feel. How much remains unresolved. How often faith looks less like certainty and more like staying.

Staying present.

Staying open.

Staying faithful when clarity has not yet arrived.

And I’ve come to understand that this is not a failure of Christmas—it is its setting.

Christmas was never meant for people who have everything figured out.

It was meant for people awake in the dark.

For those living between what has ended and what has not yet begun.

For those who know that effort alone cannot hold life together.

What I sensed at nine, I now understand with my whole life:

Christmas is not about escape from the world as it is.

It is about God coming anyway.

Coming into confusion.

Coming into grief.

Coming into fear, and noise, and unfinished stories.

If Christmas still means anything, it means this:

You are not forgotten in the waiting.

You are not behind in the becoming.

And the presence that entered the world then still enters it now—quietly, faithfully, without announcement.

This is the true meaning of Christmas.

© SilentSentinel, 2025. All rights reserved. Excerpts may be shared with attribution.

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Una carta sobre el significado de la Navidad

Cuando tenía nueve años, escribí un cuento corto para mi clase de lectura sobre el verdadero significado de la Navidad.

No recuerdo cada palabra, pero sí recuerdo el instinto que lo impulsaba: la certeza de que la Navidad trataba de algo más profundo que los regalos, el ruido o la actuación. Incluso entonces, sabía que no era una festividad que pudiera reducirse solo a decoración o tradición.

No superé esa comprensión.

Tuve que vivir lo suficiente para que fuera puesta a prueba.

Ahora soy mayor, y llevo una comprensión más plena de lo que realmente significa la Navidad—no porque la vida la haya hecho más fácil de creer, sino porque la hizo más difícil no creerla.

La Navidad no llega a un mundo apacible.

Nunca lo ha hecho.

Llega a un mundo marcado por el conflicto, el miedo, la división y el agotamiento. Un mundo que mide el valor por la productividad, el poder, la atención y la certeza. Un mundo que nos dice que nos endurezcamos, que ganemos, que protejamos lo nuestro, que nos movamos más rápido, más fuerte y más ruidosamente que los demás.

Estamos siendo entrenados para reaccionar, para elegir bandos rápidamente, para medir el valor por el volumen y la visibilidad. La Navidad interrumpe ese entrenamiento. No grita. No coacciona. No exige alineación. Simplemente llega.

Eso es precisamente lo que la Navidad contradice.

La Navidad no trata de resolución.

No trata de recompensa por buen comportamiento.

No trata de fingir que el sufrimiento puede envolverse prolijamente antes de que termine diciembre.

La Navidad trata de que Dios elija la cercanía en lugar de la distancia.

De que la esperanza llegue sin palancas.

De que la luz aparezca sin explicación.

De que el amor entre en el mundo sin exigir que el mundo esté preparado para él.

Nada en el nacimiento de Cristo sugiere control, dominio o espectáculo. No hay una entrada triunfal, no se ofrece prueba alguna, no se imponen condiciones. Solo presencia. Solo vulnerabilidad. Solo una negativa a permanecer apartado del dolor humano.

Ese es el costo de la Navidad.

Dios no evita el sufrimiento—entra en él.

No elimina la espera—la habita.

No resuelve el mundo desde arriba—camina dentro de él desde abajo.

Entiendo la Navidad más plenamente ahora no porque sepa más, sino porque he sido desaprendido de creer que el poder se ve ruidoso, rápido o victorioso.

Este año me ha enseñado cuán inacabada puede sentirse la vida. Cuánto permanece sin resolver. Cuán a menudo la fe se parece menos a la certeza y más a permanecer.

Permanecer presente.

Permanecer abierto.

Permanecer fiel cuando la claridad aún no ha llegado.

Y he llegado a comprender que esto no es un fracaso de la Navidad—es su escenario.

La Navidad nunca fue hecha para quienes lo tienen todo resuelto.

Fue hecha para quienes están despiertos en la oscuridad.

Para quienes viven entre lo que ha terminado y lo que aún no ha comenzado.

Para quienes saben que el esfuerzo por sí solo no puede mantener la vida unida.

Lo que percibí a los nueve años, ahora lo entiendo con toda mi vida:

La Navidad no trata de escapar del mundo tal como es.

Trata de que Dios venga de todos modos.

Viniendo a la confusión.

Viniendo al duelo.

Viniendo al miedo, al ruido y a las historias inconclusas.

Si la Navidad todavía significa algo, significa esto:

No estás olvidado en la espera.

No vas tarde en el llegar a ser.

Y la presencia que entró en el mundo entonces sigue entrando ahora—silenciosa, fiel, sin anuncio.

Este es el verdadero significado de la Navidad.

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