December 24, 2025
A Christmas Worth Pondering
From the Manger to the Cross
By: Idaho Dist. 24 State Senator Glenneda Zuiderveld
This Christmas has been unusually quiet for me.
Calm.
Even the weather, warm and still for this time of year in Idaho.
There’s a deep sense of peace in that quiet.
And yet, if I’m honest, there’s also been something gently stirring in my heart.
Without all the usual traditions, schedules, and noise, I’ve found myself with something we don’t often have—time.
Time to slow down.
Time to reflect.
Time to search my heart.
And in that space, I’ve been drawn back to the simple, sacred truth of Christmas, the birth of our Messiah.
As I ponder Christmas, knowing the life of Jesus and where that tiny baby in the manger would one day walk, I find myself in awe.
Awe at the love that came down from heaven.
Awe at the obedience and quiet faith of Joseph and Mary.
Awe even at the reality that hatred sought to destroy Jesus while He was still an infant.
Joseph and Mary looked into the face of their newborn son and saw what every parent sees…
the beauty of a child,
the miracle of life,
a tiny life completely dependent on them.
They could not yet see the cross.
They could not yet know the weight of the world He would carry.
They simply held Him.
And in moments like that, there is very little to explain.
There is only wonder.
There is only love.
Treasuring and pondering is all you can really do.
As I was reading the Gospels, I was struck again by these words:
“But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart.”
— Luke 2:19
Mary didn’t rush to understand everything God was doing.
She didn’t demand answers.
She held the moment gently and trusted God with the rest.
To ponder is not to drift, it is to hold truth close, to let it settle, to allow God to reveal meaning in His time.
Some things don’t need to be hurried.
Some truths grow deeper when we sit quietly with them.
Christmas invites us to do just that.
To slow down.
To be still.
To remember that God came not in noise or power, but in humility, wrapped in flesh, placed in a manger.
This quieter Christmas has reminded me that faith doesn’t always need words.
Sometimes it simply needs room.
Room to treasure.
Room to ponder.
Room to worship.
Christmas is not only something to celebrate.
It is something to hold close.
My prayer this season is simple:
That we would treasure what God has revealed,
trust Him with what we don’t yet understand,
and allow the quiet joy of Christ’s coming to settle deeply into our hearts.
Merry Christmas, from Tom and Glenneda.
