About three years ago, I found myself standing in the middle of Yorkdale Mall at 6 PM on a Saturday, watching a woman nearly tackle another shopper for the last discounted kitchen mixer. The fluorescent lights were giving me a headache, Mariah Carey was on her 47th loop of the day, and I was holding three shopping bags full of things I wasn’t even sure the recipients would like.

And then my phone buzzed. It was my mum calling from Enugu at her usual check-in time.

“Kaka, how is the cold treating you?” she asked, in that way Nigerian mothers do when they’re really asking if you’re eating well, dressing warmly, and generally keeping yourself alive in this foreign land.

“Mummy, I’m fine. Just Christmas shopping.”

“Ah-ah, Christmas shopping? On December 21st? What have you been doing?”

Fair question, Mummy. Fair question.

That conversation stopped me in my tracks, literally. Because somewhere between comparing prices on air fryers and buying scented candles (my default gift when I don’t know what to buy), I’d completely lost the plot. The heart of Christmas seemed to be slipping through my fingers like snow melting on my palm.

When Did Christmas Become a To-Do List?

Here’s what I’ve noticed in my years teaching women about elegance and intentional living: we’ve turned one of the most beautiful celebrations of the year into an exhausting performance. We’re so busy trying to create the “perfect” Christmas that we forget WHO we’re even celebrating.

And trust me, as someone who grew up in Enugu where Christmas meant akara frying on the stove at 7 AM, children running around in their new clothes (even if it’s 20 degrees), and the whole compound gathering to share abacha, rice and ofe akwu, ugba and stories—I understand the pull of tradition and celebration. But I’ve also learned that the feeling of Christmas isn’t manufactured in a shopping mall or a perfectly styled tablescape.

It’s found in something much deeper. Something that happened over two thousand years ago in a stable in Bethlehem.

What Christmas Actually Means (No, Really)

I remember having coffee with my friend Adanna on one of those days. She’s the type who starts planning Christmas in October, has colour-coordinated wrapping paper, and somehow always has fresh flowers in her home even in -15 degree weather. Peak elegance, right?

But she looked exhausted.

“I just feel like I’m doing it all wrong,” she confessed, stirring her oat milk latte with the kind of aggressive energy that said she was not okay. “Like, what’s the point of all this?”

And there it was. The question we’re all too busy to ask.

Christmas isn’t about getting it right. It’s about remembering what happened when God got it perfectly right. When He looked at our messy, broken, beautiful world and said, “I’m coming down there.” Not as a conquering king in a palace, but as a baby in a manger. The Messiah, wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a feeding trough.

That’s the heart of Christmas. That’s what we’re celebrating. Jesus Christ, Emmanuel—God with us.

Everything else? It’s just decoration.

Five Ways to Keep Your Eyes on What Matters

1. Remember the Manger—This Is Why We Celebrate

Before we talk about anything else—before the cookies and the presents and the parties—we need to anchor ourselves in this truth: Christmas is about Jesus Christ being born into the world to save us.

This isn’t just a nice religious add-on to the holiday. This is the holiday.

I’ll be honest, there are years when I’ve let this slip. Years when I’ve been so caught up in the festivities that I’ve barely thought about the miracle of the Incarnation. The fact that God loved us enough to become one of us. To enter into our humanity, our struggles, our pain—so that we could enter into His divinity, His peace, His eternal life.

That’s not a Hallmark card sentiment. That’s the most radical act of love in human history.

This year, I’ve been reading the Christmas story every morning from different gospels. Luke’s account with the shepherds. Matthew’s with the wise men. And each time, I’m struck by how simple and how profound it is. No fanfare. No red carpets. Just a young woman, a faithful man, and the Saviour of the world born in the most humble circumstances imaginable.

If we’re going to talk about elegance and intentional living, it starts here. With recognising that the King of Kings chose simplicity. Chose humility. Chose us.

So before you do anything else this Christmas, pause. Read the nativity story. Sit with the reality that Christ came for you. Let that truth settle into your bones.

Because when you truly grasp what Christmas is about, everything else falls into perspective.

2. Create Space for Stillness and Worship

I know, I know. You’re thinking, “Kaka, it’s December 22nd. Stillness? Are you mad?”

But hear me out. If Christmas is about Christ, then we need to actually make time to be with Him. Not just in passing, not just in the rush between activities, but intentionally.

Even ten minutes a day of quiet worship—whether it’s morning prayer, reading Scripture, singing carols that actually focus on Jesus, or just sitting in His presence—can recalibrate your heart.

This year, I started lighting a candle every morning and spending five minutes reflecting on a different name of Jesus. Wonderful Counsellor. Prince of Peace. Emmanuel. Some mornings, I just sit there in awe of what it means that the Creator of the universe became a baby. Other mornings I pray. But it anchors me in the why of this season.

And you know what I’ve noticed? On the days I do this, the chaos doesn’t overwhelm me. The to-do list doesn’t control me. Because I’ve already connected with the One who the season is actually about.

3. Stop Performing Christmas

This one is for my Instagram girlies (and I say this with love, as a reformed Instagram girlie myself).

Last Christmas, I spent three hours staging the “perfect” Christmas morning flat lay—you know the one: coffee, candles, wrapped gifts arranged just so, a cozy blanket draped accidentally in the corner. I posted it with a caption about gratitude and presence.

Then I realized I’d spent three hours staging presence instead of actually being present with the One whose birthday we’re celebrating.

Here’s the truth: Jesus didn’t come to earth for our Instagram feed. He came to earth for our hearts.

This year? I’m sure it’s going to be a candid Christmas ‘Jammies picture whilst actually spending time worshipping, reflecting on the gift of salvation, calling my family back home, and feeling genuine gratitude instead of performing it.

Your Christmas doesn’t need to be Pinterest-worthy to honour Christ. It needs to be real. It needs to be worshipful. It needs to actually acknowledge that this day is about Him, not about us.

4. Practice Intentional Generosity (The Way Christ Did)

There’s a difference between buying gifts out of obligation and giving from the overflow of understanding how much we’ve been given.

Christ gave us everything. His life. His sacrifice. His love. Our gift-giving should be a reflection of that kind of radical generosity—not in amount, but in heart.

I learned this the hard way when I was younger. I spent $800 on gifts for people and realized that not one of them felt meaningful. They were just… stuff. Expensive stuff that had nothing to do with the true spirit of Christmas.

Now, I ask myself: “How can my giving reflect Christ’s love for this person?” Sometimes it’s a thoughtful book that points them to Jesus. Sometimes it’s time spent serving them. Sometimes—and this shocked me the first time I did it—it’s a handwritten letter sharing how I’ve seen God’s love through them.

My friend Chiamaka told me that letter was the best gift she’d ever received. It reminded her of who she is in Christ. That’s the kind of giving that honors the reason for the season.

5. Simplify Your Traditions to Make Room for Jesus

When I first moved to Canada, I tried to recreate every single Christmas tradition from home while also adopting every Canadian tradition. I nearly had a breakdown trying to make chin-chin, Abacha, Nkwobi, sugar cookies, AND a full turkey dinner.

My partner finally said, “Babe, who are you doing this for?”

Plot twist: it wasn’t for anyone meaningful. It definitely wasn’t for Jesus.

Now, we keep it simple, and we keep it centered. We make cookies together while listening to worship music. We watch a movie about the nativity. We FaceTime my family who aren’t with us physically and share what God has done in our lives this year. We go to the Christmas Eve service—and we actually engage with the message instead of just showing up. That’s it. And it’s so much more meaningful.

Choose two or three traditions that actually help you worship and celebrate Christ, and release the rest without guilt.

Because here’s the thing: Jesus doesn’t need our elaborate productions. He wants our hearts.

What This Looks Like in Real Life

So here’s what I’ve started doing differently during the Christmas season.

I start Christmas morning with worship, not presents. I don’t go to all the holiday parties I’m invited to, so I have time to actually reflect on the Incarnation. I’m buying fewer gifts but making sure each one somehow points to God’s love. I’m spending one full day reading the Christmas story, praying, and resting in the presence of the Lord.

I’m choosing to celebrate the birth of my Saviour over the performance of perfection.

And you know what? Even though my Christmas cards went out a bit late (by my own standards), and my apartment doesn’t look like a winter wonderland, and I definitely ate too much pounded yam at the Nigerian Christmas party last weekend—I feel more at peace than I have in years.

Because I’m not trying to perform Christmas anymore.

I’m trying to worship through it.

Your Turn

What would it look like for you to strip away everything that’s not about Jesus and get back to the heart of this season? What would change if you gave yourself permission to celebrate simply, meaningfully, worshipfully?

Maybe it starts with putting down your phone right now and reading Luke 2. Or spending five minutes thanking Jesus for coming to earth for you. Or sitting in silence and asking yourself, “Am I celebrating Christmas, or am I celebrating Christ?”

The beautiful thing about true elegance—the kind that matters eternally—is that it flows from understanding our identity in Christ. From recognizing that we don’t have to prove anything or perform anything because Jesus already did it all.

He came. He lived. He died. He rose. He saved us.

That’s the story. That’s the miracle. That’s Christmas.

Everything else is just noise.

Merry Christmas, my loves. May yours be simple, sacred, and centered completely on the One whose birth we celebrate. May you see Him clearly through all the distractions. And may you experience the profound peace that comes from knowing Emmanuel—God with us—in a fresh, real way this season.

With love from my slightly messy Toronto apartment (but with a very focused heart),
Kaka

P.S. My mum called again this morning to remind me, “Kaka, don’t forget why we’re celebrating o. It’s not about the food or the clothes. It’s about Jesus.” Mothers always know. Listen to yours—or better yet, listen to the Holy Spirit, who’s probably saying the same thing.