The Christmas I Planned For — and The Christ Who Prepared Me (Part 1)
What happens when devotion doesn’t look so spiritual, but instead feels human, messy, and tempting?
This is the story of the Christmas that tested my faith — and deepened it further.
Choosing a New Christ-mas Tradition
I knew in my heart that something about these holidays felt different, and that reflection became an invitation — not to reject tradition, but to listen more closely for a higher calling. What if Christmas was not only about remembering Christ, but about allowing His consciousness to initiate something new within me?
I don’t reject the idea of coming together as family during these seasons, celebrating in the ways Western culture has taught us — feasting, exchanging gifts, listening to familiar carols. And yet, there was a quiet liberation in questioning whether the birth of Christ asked for more than repetition. Whether it asked for embodiment.
Over the past years, I have felt increasingly drawn to Christ Consciousness as I deepen my path in spiritual embodiment. Not Christ as an abstract religious symbol, but Christ as a frequency — one that demands alignment between belief and action.
Many have taught wisdom across millennia. Many have spoken beautifully about God. But only one, according to Christian tradition, lived as both fully human and fully divine — not merely teaching the way, but becoming it. Not only proclaiming truth, but walking it so completely that his life itself became the message.
Jesus did not speak as a distant prophet or a philosophical poet. He spoke as the Son — and the Sun — of God: the living bridge between the human and the divine, between flesh and spirit, between suffering and redemption. His life was not centered around ritual compliance, but around radical presence, moral courage, and relational responsibility.
Through his teachings — and more importantly, through his actions — he revealed a God that could be encountered in everyone and everything: in joy and in grief, in devotion and in doubt. God, as Jesus embodied Him, was not reserved for the pure or the perfect, but remained present in the consciousness of those willing to choose love, again and again.
In this sense, Jesus removed much of the religious romanticism and spiritual doctrines I never connected to. But following his teachings becomes something far more demanding — and far more intimate: a call to live what I profess, to let faith translate into action, and to allow love to become something practiced, not merely preached.
The Synchronicities: When God Nods Back
Surely by now these things shouldn’t surprise me, but they do. I think that’s what magic is all about in the end — to allow ourselves to feel wonder and genuine astonishment when life sprinkles these unexpected moments.
There’s a book I’m reading that’s been taking me ages, called The Second Coming of Christ by Paramahansa Yogananda.
It’s a dense, contemplative read — the kind of book that asks you to pause, digest, and meet each page very, very slowly.
I was reading about the birth of Jesus when I came across a passage that deeply resonated —
“ Each year at Christmastime there are stronger than usual vibrations of Christ-love and joy that emanate to earth from the heavenly realms. The ether becomes filled with the Infinite Light that shone on earth when Jesus was born.
Those persons who are in tune through devotion and deep meditation feel in a wondrously tangible way the transforming vibrations of the omnipresent consciousness that was in Christ Jesus.
To celebrate the birth of Jesus in solely materialistic ways is a desecration of the meaning of his holy life and of the immortal message of divine love and God-union that he preached.”
Wow…
There He was — blinking back at me with this spot-on read.
Now, Yogananda’s proposal was fasting and meditation — something my body had already been preparing for in the earlier weeks, as my appetite naturally decreased.
Yes. A detox and reverence practice was exactly my idea of a spiritual Christmas.
I still giggle at this divine confirmation, because what felt so clear and simple would soon reveal itself to be anything but.
How beautiful is it when a quantum puzzle comes together, energy falls into place, and we realize that body and mind are part of the same spiritual intelligence?
Your unique intention initiates ( you see the connection between these two words?) an energetic movement.
And as it unfolds, a sacred webbing of alliances comes to meet you — called synchronicities.
December 22nd: When Temptation Wanted to Join the Party
Guys, I’m an Aries.
That should tell you a lot about myself and honestly, I can’t help but agreeing.
Leading fire sign of the Zodiac.
Goofy and spontaneous.
Passionate, romantic and impulsive.
Loyal.
Reflective and imaginative.
The list continues.
Some of you may already know that the dating landscape on the island is… particular.
People come and go quickly — a few days, a few weeks, sometimes a couple of months if timing aligns. There aren’t many natural social hubs to meet people organically, and most connections exist in a kind of temporary, in-between space.
The island itself attracts a very specific rhythm of life: surfers passing through, digital nomads experimenting with freedom, people resting between chapters. It’s beautiful in its own way, but not exactly designed for slow, grounded relationship building.
I’ve lived here long enough that solitude doesn’t feel unfamiliar to me. In fact, it’s often been a teacher. And for the season of life I’ve been in — devoted to my work, my inner life, and my spiritual path — it’s mostly felt appropriate.
But sometimes I’m reminded of the fact that this young lady right here, has healthy functioning hormones who could easily get excited when there’s a sign of potential.
It’s the evening of December 22nd (this date is known to be a catalyst number for me) and I match with someone on Hinge. They seem… promising.
We’re vibing, flirting, bantering and laughing… that’s more than I’ve experienced in a very, very long time.
So now I’m in trouble. Standing in a crossroad of exploring this connection further, or continuing with my I-LOVE-JESUS-NUN plan and disappearing from the world in the upcoming days.
Yiah… that internal negotiation didn’t last long, we decided to meet up on the 24th.
But by now I’m starting to feel like Jesus sent me a quiz —and I’m not exactly passing it.
The good news is that later in this story I’ll realise that temptation isn’t a failure to devotion.
It’s the arena and opportunity where devotion can actually be experienced— and, after a bit of engagement, you might earn a PhD in your field.
A Chaotic Date
I get my ferry ticket and sail over to Lanzarote.
Excitement builds. Fantasy activates. The familiar ruminating of what if.
It was meant to be simple — a short lunch date. A few hours, nothing serious.
I arrive hungry (never recommended), and we’re both a little late. He picks me up and suggests a bar instead. We sit outside on the terrace. He orders a large pitcher of beer. I order a green juice.
It starts to rain.
We stay outside anyway. I laugh, half-amused, half-freezing, telling myself there’s something almost romantic about it — while my body quietly registers discomfort.
At some point, he realizes he’s left his phone in the car. I think nothing of it and insist on paying. When we return and he checks his phone, his expression shifts.
“My sister’s been calling,” he says. “I need to go back.”
It’s been just over an hour.
What follows is a kind of nervous unraveling — words spilling out, frustration aimed at his family, explanations that don’t quite explain. Eventually, it becomes clear: he hadn’t been honest about meeting me, and he didn’t actually have control over his time.
And strangely, I don’t feel upset.
I take an earlier ferry home, dizzy, tired, and very hungry — yet unusually calm. Sitting there, watching the water move beneath me, I feel a quiet presence beside me.
Just peace.
I recognise it immediately as Christ — not correcting me, not judging my choice, simply accompanying me back “home” to myself.
The Second Chance — and the Old Pattern
What would you have done?
I guess my character can be both ways.
Graceful and compassionate.
Rational and decisive.
I embodied both during this experience, starting with grace.
Look some people are more chaotic than others in their personality, and even though it isn’t exactly a trait I look for in a potential partner — I thought this one deserves a second chance.
But hey, he blew that one too.
By this point of the moral story I’m collecting data, not just observing behaviour.
Understand that every person reigns themselves through core beliefs, and that translates quickly into actions.
And that was an important lesson for me, because I’ve enabled confusing and inconsistent doings in the past.
In my first relationship it lasted 4 years.
In my last one it lasted 10 months.
And this time? 72 hours.
Heres what felt true to me about this experience:
Growth is not never repeating a pattern.
Growth, is leaving it sooner than last time.
Go ahead and screenshot it.
The Guilt: “I Failed Jesus”
Jesus… you know me too well.
As the optimistic person that I am, I always draw the learning outcomes from any of my experiences.
Yet I didn’t get to meditate or detox in the way I intended to for your birthday… and that still felt like self-betrayal.
Why would I fall into lust and temptation on the most holy day of the year?
Even though I deep down knew this was not a coincidence, but a test to my faith, and that I kind of messed up…Jesus never left my side.
How could falling into temptation bring me closer to Christ?
All of this in part 2… and for now, I’ll leave you with this reflection:
I though devotion meant withdrawing from the world.
But what it really means is Christ will meet me inside it.
Con mucho amor, and until soon again.
Nina
