Over the next few days, people will gather to celebrate Christmas with their families, in-laws, and friends. I pray that your holiday season is blessed beyond imagination.

The one thought I carry into the holidays is a variation on a statement I heard years ago. I have given it a Christmas twist, but it still applies.

“People will forget what gift you gave them, but they will remember how you made them feel.”

The most significant thing you can do is to make people feel seen and valued. Putting your phone down, leaning in to listen, asking questions, and being fully present are the greatest gifts you can give anyone.

When this season is over, I hope that people will remember you being in their lives with great joy.

I have often thought about Mary’s mom and dad.

What were they like? Did they believe their daughter? Were they happy for her and Joseph? Were they doting grandparents who ask no questions?

The Bible tells us nothing about Mary’s family background. We have no descriptions of her mother and father to help us draw conclusions about their thinking. We can assume that Mary was raised in a home built on faith. They trained Mary in the teachings of the Old Testament and attempted to live it out, since Mary is so willing to serve God when she is called upon. Any speculation about their life is built on nothing but pure imagination.

Yet this silence itself speaks volumes about God’s story. He chose an ordinary girl from an ordinary family to carry out His most extraordinary plan. Mary’s parents weren’t kings, priests, or prophets whose names needed to be recorded for posterity. They were faithful people who raised their daughter to know and trust God.

Perhaps that’s precisely the point. The Christmas story reminds us that God works through everyday families. He uses parents who teach their children Scripture around the dinner table, who model faithfulness in small moments, who pray ordinary prayers. Mary’s willingness to say “let it be to me according to your word” didn’t spring from nowhere. It was cultivated in a home where faith mattered.

This Christmas, as we celebrate the birth of Jesus, maybe we should pause to thank God for the grandparents and parents whose names we’ll never know. Those faithful men and women who quietly shaped the people God used to change the world. They remind us that our most important legacy isn’t fame or recognition, but raising the next generation to recognize God’s voice when He calls.

I am trying to learn from my mistakes. Each one brings a new life lesson about me, others, and God.

But I do not have to make every mistake. I do not have to live it to learn it.

At the end of the year, it is worth reflecting on all that has happened to you in the previous twelve months. It is also good to assess others’ lives and learn from them.

Experience may be the best teacher, but it doesn’t always have to be your experience.

This Sunday, our Church will hold its annual candlelight program. Yes, we do it on Sunday morning, not on Christmas Eve. A few years ago, I decided, with the leadership of the Church, that we would worship on Sunday morning and celebrate Christmas then, no matter when the twenty-fifth fell.

Our Church building has eight windows in the auditorium, and I have boards and cardboard to black them out for the morning. Sure, it seems like a hassle, but it is one of my favorite programs of the year. The lights will be dim, and almost everything will be illuminated by candlelight. At the end, people will hold up a personal candle as we sing Silent Night. And every year, it stirs emotions deep inside me.

Why do we do it all by candlelight? The goal is to underline the coming of Jesus as the light of the world. The Apostle John in the introduction to his gospel says, “In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:4-5)

Jesus comes as a light into a dark world, and more specifically, the darkness in our lives, and the darkness cannot defeat it. At Christmas, the light is small as he arrives as a baby, but by Easter, the light will shine like the sunrise.  

So for Christmas, we light candles and shine a tiny light. It is symbolic. It is emotional. It is all about Jesus.

What is your first question when it comes to giving gifts, especially at Christmas?

For most of us, the answer to that question is “How much should we spend?”

I want to suggest a better question. What if you asked, “What would be most meaningful to that person?”

Like many people, I have a job that pays me adequately, and I can buy whatever I desire. The issue of money rarely enters my mind when I receive a gift. My mind runs to the motivation behind that gift. Where was their heart?

Did they give this out of obligation? Did they give me the cheapest gift they thought they could get away with? Alternatively, I might think, “Wow, they really know me,” or “This was so thoughtful.”

Over the years, I have received inexpensive gifts that have meant the world to me, and I have also received pricey ones that have made me sad.

The old expression, “It’s the thought that counts,” is partially true. The thought and the heart behind a gift are the real treasure.

This month is the twelfth Christmas as a pastor at the Church I currently serve. That means I have walked through twelve months of Christmas sermons, children’s programs, and candlelight gatherings.

The children who once sang in their sweet little voices have now grown into adults. The young adults who were attending when I came have married, and their kids are performing this year. Several older adults who once carried candles are now unable to participate because of the struggles that come with age. Still others who once arrived with their white hair and new Christmas sweater have gone on to be with Jesus.

Times change. People in the Church change. And the one constant has been the old, old story about a Savior who comes from heaven to be with his people. As I look back on these twelve Christmases, I’m grateful for the privilege of walking with a community that still believes the manger matters. A community that keeps showing up, year after year, to celebrate a Savior who has shown us that hope exists, peace is possible, and love is not out of reach.

I hope this year to see you at Church for Christmas, or that you will join your faith community to celebrate the coming of the King. It is still a story you need to hear.

What is your first instinct about the people you encounter?

Do you see them as friends or as foes?

Do you assume they want the best for you, or do you brace yourself for them to take advantage of you?

Do you believe they genuinely care, or do you quietly wonder if your presence is just an inconvenience to them?

Often, the story we tell ourselves isn’t rooted in the person standing in front of us at all. Instead, it is shaped by what we’ve experienced. Sometimes we judge someone based on a past wound, betrayal, or disappointment. Without realizing it, we project yesterday’s pain onto other people.

How would your life, and mine, be different if we approached others looking for the best and not the worst?

Perhaps there is a whole group of people with whom you might find connection, mutual encouragement, and even friendship. When you tell yourself a different story, it not only changes how you see others but also how you experience life.

If social media has taught us anything, it is that you have more time than you realize.

Imagine if you were to stop doomscrolling, watching meaningless videos, reading through memes, and posting your opinions, how much more time you would have to use for something productive this coming year.

Whenever someone tells me they don’t have enough time to read, attend, or pray, they are really telling me it is not a priority for them.

The first step to improvement is to quit lying to yourself. You have the time, you simply don’t want to do it. Where there is a desire, you will find the time.

One of the great things about the Church as it exists today is that a Sunday morning worship program can be a fantastic entry point to faith. It is an excellent place for people who know nothing about Christianity to start their journey with Jesus.

The only catch is that most people will not start their pilgrimage alone. Few are those who get up on a Sunday morning all alone and go to a Church where they know no one.

On the flip side, estimates indicate that 70% or more will attend a Church if they are invited and accompanied by a family member or friend.

One goal for the ministry I lead is to foster a “culture of inviting.” We will be a community where it is natural to invite those we love to join us on Sunday morning. It is not because we believe that Church attendance is the sum total of being a follower of Jesus, but it is undoubtedly a great place to start.

Love is more than saying the words, “I love you.”

Real love makes you a meal when you are sick or struggling. It sends you pictures that will make you laugh or articles that will make you think. Love cares about your needs, wants, desires, and dreams. It buys gifts and always says, “Thank you.”

Love listens. It puts the phone down and offers our full attention. Love is responding to messages and answering calls immediately. Love exists in the way it communicates, not just in what content.

True love does not neglect work and pass it off to someone else. It shows up early and stays late to make sure everything is done. Love is doing the right thing.

Love is expressed not only in words but in a thousand seemingly insignificant actions that happen every day or every week.

This is not a post asking you to assess who really and truly loves you; rather, it is a call for you to consider your own actions and reflect on whether you are a person who talks about love rather than truly loving others.