Wherever We Land

Growing up, one tradition that always stood firm in my family was celebrating Christmas. My parents kept it faithfully every year—decorating the house with lights, putting up the tree, and piling gifts underneath it. There were stockings, hot cocoa, family dinners, and of course, the excitement of gift-giving. At the time, it all felt magical. But as I grew in my walk with God and dug deeper into His word, I began to question the roots of this celebration and who it was truly meant to glorify.

Over time, I came to realize that Christmas is not a biblical holy day. Instead, it’s a man-made tradition, rooted in customs and symbols far removed from the teachings of the Bible. More than anything, it has become a day centered around spending money and giving material gifts—often leaving people stressed, in debt, or focusing more on shopping lists than the Savior.

I don’t celebrate Christmas anymore, not because I don’t value my parents’ efforts or the memories made, but because I now choose to walk a different path—one rooted in truth and obedience to God’s word. I’ve come to honor the Holy Days laid out in the Bible, the ones God Himself declared to be set apart and sacred.

One of the most beautiful parts of this shift is that many of these Holy Days align perfectly with my love for camping and being outdoors. Instead of being cooped up inside under artificial lights and commercial pressures, I now find myself out in nature during these sacred times—sitting beside a quiet stream, gazing at the stars, or warming myself by a campfire. It’s in these moments that I feel closest to God. His creation speaks louder than any store-bought ornament ever could.

Celebrating the biblical feasts gives me space to slow down, reflect, and truly worship God—not with tinsel and wrapping paper, but with my heart, my praise, and a spirit of thanksgiving. Each Holy Day carries deep meaning, connecting me more to His plan for humanity and reminding me of my place in it—not as a consumer, but as a servant, a worshipper, and a child of the Most High.

This shift hasn’t always been easy. Letting go of traditions that once brought joy can be bittersweet. But what I’ve gained is far greater: truth, peace, and a deeper relationship with my Creator. Now, as I sit outside under God’s sky during His appointed times, I understand what it truly means to celebrate—and it has nothing to do with gifts under a tree.

It has everything to do with honoring the One who made the tree in the first place.