The holiday season stirs up a unique kind of reflection, especially for those who have walked through life’s shadows. For me, It’s been a long journey. As someone who has known the weight of pain and loss, I find myself thinking deeply about the weight of grief, injustice, and unspoken trauma that can be suffocating. Yet, as the holidays approach, I find myself dreaming of something more than just a simple holiday wish. I’m daring to dream of a world where true healing finds its way to the broken corners, to the people who have been waiting, like me, for something better. I have this longing for a world where healing, justice, and connection aren’t just words but realities we live.

The Christmas classic, My Grown-up Christmas List, speaks to these dreams in words that reach deeply into my heart. Simply put…No more shattered lives, no more wars igniting, and may time mend every heart, are the kinds of expressions, words, and dreams that shouldn’t just exist for a season but call out to us year-round, beckoning us to believe in possibilities we’ve almost forgotten. What if, in this season, we could believe that healing isn’t a luxury but a right? That each person—whether they’ve lived through trauma, faced injustice, or simply struggled to find peace—has a chance to experience a kind of joy and healing that isn’t fleeting but transformative? The truth is, for many of us, Christmas isn’t about presents under a tree but about survival, resilience, and the hope that something, someday, will be different. My grown-up Christmas dreams of healing and change reach out to these deeper needs.

As someone who’s been on the receiving end of pain and loss, I dream of a world where lives aren’t broken by cycles of poverty, violence, or discrimination. I dream of communities where we are taught not just to survive but to thrive. It’s not enough to say that we should move on from what has harmed us. Real healing begins when we acknowledge the hurt, the deep wounds that need time and safe spaces to mend. I dream of mental health care that doesn’t come with a price tag too high for the most vulnerable among us to afford. I want to see therapists, counselors, and healers available in every community, working to support those who have been left behind. No one should have to choose between food on the table and a session with a counselor who can help them make sense of their pain.

For those of us who have been treated like outsiders in our own country, the dream of peace isn’t just about the end of physical wars but the end of social battles, the quiet wars that mark our lives every day. I want to see a world where our differences are celebrated rather than feared, where people of every race, gender, and background can exist without hostility. True peace is found in understanding, in the willingness to listen to each other’s stories, and in the courage to stand up against systems that harm. I dream of schools where every child, regardless of color or economic background, has access to resources that uplift and empower them. I imagine a society that values empathy as much as intellect and a culture that understands trauma as something that doesn’t make us weak but shows us where healing is most needed.

There’s something remarkable about how time, coupled with love and care, can transform even the most painful wounds. I dream of a world where we give people the time they need to heal without forcing them to rush through their pain. This year, more than ever, I feel the weight of that desire—not just for myself but for so many others who’ve carried their suffering alone.

Imagine if we lived in a world where reaching out for help wasn’t met with judgment or shame but with open arms. Healing isn’t linear, and we need a society that understands this. I dream of systems that prioritize mental and emotional health, workplaces that allow for rest, and communities that rally around those who are hurting, so that everyone has a chance to rebuild.

Loneliness, for so many, is a reality. And for those of us who’ve felt the pain of rejection or isolation, the idea of companionship and community is more than a wish—it’s a need. I dream of neighborhoods where people know each other’s names, where “How are you?” is asked with genuine intent. Let’s get back to the village where all was collective in thought and action for the greater good. Friendship isn’t just a comfort; it’s a foundation. It allows us to see ourselves reflected in others and reminds us that we aren’t alone.

I’ve seen the strength it takes to stand up for what’s right, to call out injustice even when the world seems blind to it. My grown-up Christmas dream is that justice isn’t a battle fought by a few but a value embraced by all. I want a world where right doesn’t have to fight so hard to be seen, where those in power protect the vulnerable, and where courage isn’t the exception but the rule.

Ultimately, my dream is that love, true love, is the foundation of all we do. Love that goes beyond words, that reaches into the places of darkness and brings light. I want to see a world where love is the reason we care for one another, where love is the force that binds communities, and where love doesn’t end but grows, one person at a time.

These are my grown-up Christmas dreams. They may seem big, almost impossible, but I believe in the power of hope. Scripture tells us, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick; but when dreams come true at last, there is life and joy” (Proverbs 13:12-14). For myself and others who have known struggle, my prayer is that these dreams for healing, peace, friendship, justice, and love don’t remain dreams forever but become the reality of a world transformed.