This post may seem a bit late—most of you have probably already settled back into your routines after the holidays. But for me, this season is just beginning. Due to work and financial constraints, I couldn’t spend the holidays with my family. For the first time, I spent Christmas on my own.

Oddly enough, it was beautiful. I spent Christmas in quiet reflection with the Lord, a powerful reminder that I am never truly alone. I attended midnight Mass on the 25th—a profound experience, though exhausting since I’m not used to staying up late. Still, I felt a deep sense of peace. I rested, recovered from a seasonal cold, and embraced stillness.

But as I prepared to visit my family, anxiety began to creep in. I’m grateful for them—they are wonderful—but I thrive in solitude. I’ve accepted that about myself. It’s not about them; it’s simply how I navigate life. I also know I have a short fuse and can be easily overwhelmed. So, I’ve been asking God for grace: the grace to love, to be patient, and to embrace this time with my aging parents and siblings.

Learning to Love When It’s Hard

Isn’t it funny how the smallest interactions with loved ones can stir up our deepest emotions? A forgotten text, an offhand comment—it all feels heavier in the context of family. I once tried to plan a simple breakfast with my sister, but it quickly unraveled into misunderstandings and assumptions. I felt hurt and disappointed. But after some time in prayer, I saw what was really happening: I had expectations that only God could meet.

We live in a world that glorifies walking away from difficult relationships to preserve peace. But have we lost the grace to love, to tolerate, and to coexist with people who challenge us? Are we giving others the same grace we wish to receive?

The Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC 1825) teaches that Christian love extends even to enemies and those who hurt us, showing that true charity is unconditional. I’ve received so much grace from my family. I know I’m not always easy to be around, but they’ve never made me feel unwanted.

One vivid memory sticks with me: driving down to LA to meet my sister and drop off her dog. I suggested we have breakfast together, but she dismissed the idea as impractical. In that moment, I felt anger, hurt, and sadness all at once. I replayed scenarios in my mind where I “canceled” her for making me feel small. But when I sat with those feelings, I realized I wasn’t strong enough to process them alone. I prayed, asking God for the grace to see her love—even if it wasn’t expressed how I wanted.

It’s in moments like these that I’ve learned love in human relationships can’t carry the full weight of our expectations—it must be grounded in God. Without that foundation, we put unbearable pressure on the people we love. Only God can carry the full weight of our needs.

Are We Becoming Like the Pharisees?

It’s worth asking ourselves: Are we becoming like the Pharisees who criticized Jesus for dining with sinners and outcasts? In today’s world, do we distance ourselves from people because they’re messy, unambitious, or imperfect? Are we quick to post about others’ flaws while concealing our own shortcomings behind a digital screen?

The Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC 1934-1935) teaches that all people possess equal dignity and that discrimination of any kind is unjust. This reminds us that even when others seem different or flawed, they are still worthy of love and grace.

But if we avoid people because of their imperfections, what happens when we face our own? None of us are immune to mistakes. The slow person we’re annoyed by today could be a reflection of our future selves. The criticism we despise from others—are we guilty of inflicting it? Wouldn’t we want grace from our children if we failed them? This is where we must root ourselves in Christ.

Let’s reflect: Are we striving to extend grace or seeking opportunities to call others out? It’s in these quiet choices that we either build bridges or deepen divides.

Surrender and Trust

The beauty of faith is that we don’t have to figure this out alone. The Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC 301) reminds us that God sustains creation and calls us to trust in His providence. When the weight of offense feels unbearable, we can surrender and say, “Lord, I need You. This hurt—it’s too much for me. Help me understand, help me forgive, help me let it go.”

When we focus on the whole person rather than a single offense, we begin to reflect Christ’s love. We don’t need to sever ties to maintain peace. Instead, we can ask for grace to stay rooted, even when it’s hard.

Rejecting Cancel Culture and Embracing Grace

It’s tempting, isn’t it? The idea of removing someone who “no longer serves me” can feel like a quick dopamine hit. But that satisfaction is fleeting.

Think of how often social media invites us to cancel someone over a single comment or mistake. We build a case in our minds, but grace often surprises us in the smallest moments—a thoughtful text, a kind word from someone we thought distant.

I’ve been extended grace over and over. I’ve been tolerated when I wasn’t present, when I lacked empathy, and when I didn’t show up as I should have. Cancel culture offers a quick escape from conflict, but it doesn’t lead to growth. Real freedom comes from surrendering our pride and asking for the strength to endure.

Rooted in Love

How would our lives change if we showed up with love, compassion, and care—regardless of what we receive in return? When we anchor ourselves in God’s eternal love, we are unshakable. We can be insulted, hurt, or even rejected—and still remain whole because our worth is rooted in Him.

As I prepare for this trip, my prayer is simple: “Lord, help me to love as You love. Help me to see beyond imperfections. Let me extend the grace I have received.”

May we hold fast to God’s love and embrace the power of forgiveness, remembering the call to holiness described in the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC 2013-2015), which teaches that all Christians are invited to pursue sanctity through love, prayer, and perseverance.