Posted By: Jan

This year, as the holidays approach, I can’t shake the sadness that keeps sitting in my heart. Normally, I’d be looking forward to seeing families come together, children laughing, people cooking big meals, and that warmth you feel when you’re surrounded by the people who love you most. But this year feels different — darker, colder, and emptier. It’s not because of the food or the decorations or the gifts. It’s because of what’s happening to families across the nation due to deportation.

So many people are being separated from their loved ones right before the holidays. Mothers are crying because they don’t know when they’ll hug their children again. Fathers are wondering if they’ll ever get to see their families at the dinner table. Grandparents are left alone, praying for a miracle. The sadness is overwhelming because these holidays are supposed to bring people together — not tear them apart.

Thanksgiving and Christmas are times when even broken families try to make peace. They’re moments when grudges are dropped, when everyone sits down to share food, stories, and love. But this year, deportation has robbed thousands of people of that joy. Imagine sitting down for dinner and seeing an empty chair that used to belong to your son, your sister, your husband — gone because of political decisions that treat people like numbers instead of human beings.

Now, I understand what the Bible says — that Thanksgiving and Christmas are man-made holidays, not holy days given by God. I know they’re considered pagan in their origins. But I’ve always believed that when something brings people together in love and unity, it still has purpose. God says, “If God is for us, who can be against us?” And I truly believe that anything that helps us show love, compassion, and gratitude is not wrong in His eyes.

But how can we celebrate love and gratitude when so many hearts are breaking? How can a mother give thanks when her husband was taken away? How can a child celebrate Christmas when they don’t know if their father is safe? We’re in a time when politics and pride have replaced compassion and understanding. Deportation doesn’t just remove people — it removes joy, laughter, and the very spirit that makes these holidays meaningful.

Some people say, “Well, they should’ve followed the law,” but those words come easy when it’s not your family being torn apart. Many of these individuals have lived here for years, built lives, raised children, and worked hard. They’re not criminals. They’re human beings trying to live in peace. And during this season that’s supposed to remind us of love and togetherness, how can we ignore the pain of those who’ve lost that connection?

When I think about all the families crying this year, my heart aches. I pray for them. I pray that they find strength and comfort in God’s plan, even when it feels unbearable. Maybe this is a lesson for us all — to stop depending so much on government systems and start depending more on faith. Maybe God allowed this pain to remind us that the world cannot give us true security or love — only He can.

But even with that understanding, it still hurts. It hurts to think that while some families will be gathered around a warm table, others will be sitting in silence, missing someone they love deeply. The holiday lights won’t shine the same this year. The songs won’t sound as joyful. The spirit of the season feels dimmed because love has been interrupted.

So, as we move into this season, I just want to say a prayer for every person who’s lost someone to deportation, and for every heart that’s grieving an empty seat at the table. May God comfort you, give you peace, and remind you that no border can separate His love. Even when the world is cold, His warmth still remains.

Because at the end of the day, love is what makes life worth living — and I pray that somehow, even in the pain, love finds its way back to those who need it most.