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As a resident of San Diego, you might picture me living near sunny beaches or a sprawling cityscape with uniform palm trees, but my version of San Diego resembles something more like a country hamlet from a bygone era. Picture a rustic Mayberry where life is a bit slower, residents ride horses through partially paved streets, backyard chickens can be heard squawking at all hours of the day, and church bells ring out every hour, on the hour.

While only a 30-minute drive from downtown, my unincorporated town is 1,640 feet above sea level and worlds away from the hustle and bustle of the San Diego you see on postcards. Down the hill in “America’s Finest City,” there’s a lively arts and culture scene, incredible restaurants and coffee shops, endless activities, and miles of beaches. Up here, on the other hand, our ‘amenities’ include a humble family taco shop, two convenience stores, and a 1,500-square-foot library.

Perched on my micro-mountain, I often find myself looking down upon the city below with a sense of longing to be a part of the crowd’s hubbub while simultaneously grateful I’m far from it. This dissonance becomes a lot louder as the Christmas season begins to descend upon our little town in a technicolor glow. Living up here is a welcome escape from the commercialized chaos that the holidays bring, but I’ve started to notice a pestering internal strain; a tension between the desire to do ‘all the things’ and squeeze out every ounce of the city’s magic, while also feeling a strong pull toward slowing down to truly immerse myself in the story of Christ’s birth, allowing the holiday madness to completely melt away.

Even now, as I stand at this proverbial crossroads, I recognize that some of the most life-giving moments during this busy Advent season have been those sitting in the quiet glow of my tree, reflecting on and learning about the redemptive story of Christmas.

This year, my husband and I are going through a daily Advent Bible study called “Just as He Promised” from The Daily Grace Co. One of the reasons I appreciate this study is because it forces us to slow down and give our full, undivided attention to a story we’ve heard a thousand times; a story we should know backwards and forwards. This study takes us beyond Luke 2 and immerses us into a journey through Scripture, providing a comprehensive look at the significance of redemptive history and cultural norms in relation to Christ’s birth.

It’s not a quick, one-page devotional that we read at the dinner table, but one that requires me to intentionally block out time in my day to sit in silence, away from the buzz of my phone and the nagging pressure to cross off items on my Christmas checklist.

As a selfie-postured millennial who practically ushered in the Instagram era over a decade ago, the whole “sitting in silence” concept has become more difficult with each passing year. And yet, I absolutely yearn for it. More than ever, I crave moments of true, unadulterated peace—a kind of peace that manifests in deeply rooted feelings of safety, calm, and stillness.

That’s part of the reason moving to our small town was so appealing to us. We went from living in one of San Diego’s, dare I say, hippest neighborhoods, to one that couldn’t land on the spectrum of hip no matter how hard it tried. Residents of San Diego proper might view our town as irrelevant, out-of-touch, and sorely lacking in amenities (they’re not wrong on that point), however, most people who choose to live here consider it one of San Diego’s best-kept secrets. It’s a place where kids still play outside until the one-and-only streetlight turns on; a place where every Christmas, neighbors compete for the coveted best light display designation; a place where kids sell lemonade on the street corner; a place where a spring walk is met with the rich fragrance of backyard orange blossoms at every turn. It's a place where people experience a unique stillness that modern cities and even suburbs can’t easily provide.

Similarly, at Christmastime, I find myself seeking a true sense of peace; one that can’t be found anywhere on a Christmas bucket list, a Kenny G Christmas album, or even in the calming glow of my twinkling tree.

Colossians 3:15-16 says, “And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs.”

We experience the peace of God when we spend time in Scripture, meditating on the words He has purposefully spoken to us. By studying the Bible in full, we can observe redemptive history unfold as we see how God perfectly knit together the events that led to Christ’s birth, death, and resurrection. When we spend time in the Word and ask the Spirit to work within us, we begin to experience a peace that “surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:7). One that even life’s most chaotic seasons can’t shake.

This Advent, if you find yourself longing for stillness while on the battleground of holiday hysteria, know that you’re not alone. Remember that only Christ can offer the peace the world constantly seeks but can never satisfy. Spend just a few minutes each day this Christmas studying the story of Christ’s birth through the lens of history and God’s fulfilled promises laid out in the Old Testament. I think you’ll be surprised at what you’ll learn and the stillness that will follow.

This year as I inevitably begin to feel that familiar tension between Christmas chaos and calm, I will take a step back to examine where I am spending my time and energy – is it wrapped up in yuletide turmoil or is it grounded in the gospel? Join me this season of Advent as I practice turning away from the ‘glittering city below’ with its empty promises of peace, and practice turning toward the only true source of stillness found in the quiet that surrounds me: Jesus Christ, our Prince of Peace, sent to fulfill God’s Covenant promise.