How To Find The Glow When Christmas Looks Different
There’s something about Christmas morning that has always felt sacred to me. Growing up, it was the one day a year when the whole world seemed to slow down long enough for joy to settle in. We stayed in our pajamas while my mom filled the kitchen with the smell of French toast and sizzling sausage. Everyone held a mug of hot chocolate, the kind with extra marshmallows melting into a little cloud on top. Christmas carols played softly in the background, and before long, family members filled the house until it felt like the walls themselves were humming with warmth.
We always started with stockings—the simple treasures, the tiny surprises—and then gathered together for presents once everyone had arrived. Those mornings felt magical, stitched together with laughter, music, and the presence of the people I loved most. I didn’t know it then, but those moments were teaching my heart what gratitude really looked like.
This year, Christmas looks completely different. And somehow, even sweeter.
In The Midst of Change, Christmas Still Glows
About eight months ago, I stepped into an unexpected season when I became the full-time caregiver for my granddaughter, Rayven. Raising a baby again at this stage of life has reshaped everything—my days, my priorities, my dreams, my rhythms. It has been both deeply stretching and deeply joyful. And now, walking into Christmas as her guardian, I see the entire season through a brand-new lens.
My mornings begin in the quiet dark, padding down the stairs while the house is still wrapped in stillness. The only light comes from the Christmas tree glowing in the bay window, casting soft reflections across the floor. I make my cup of coffee and let those lights preach a little sermon of their own—one about peace, hope, and God’s unwavering nearness. It’s my small sanctuary before the day begins.
And then, when Rayven wakes up . . . everything changes.
This will be her very first Christmas, and she’ll be almost nine months old. I can hardly wait for that moment when it’s just the two of us sitting in front of the Christmas tree, the glow dancing in her curious eyes. Raising her has reshaped how I see Christmas entirely. Things I’ve forgotten in adulthood—the wonder, the awe, the magic of first experiences — all come rushing back when I watch her discover the world. Every light, every sound, every new texture is a revelation to her.
And this year, she inspired a brand-new tradition: sugar cookies.
I’ve never been the “make sugar cookies from scratch at Christmas” type (eight different kinds of Christmas candies and goodies, yes!), but something about her changed that. I put her in her highchair nearby so she can watch, kicking her little legs while I roll dough, cut shapes, and pretend I know what I’m doing. She’s too young to help this year, but one day she’ll stand at the counter beside me with flour on her cheeks and frosting on her fingers. For now, it’s enough that she’s her —my tiny audience, my inspiration.
My gratitude looks different this year too. It’s deeper.
More textured.
More honest.
The Soil of Unexpected Seasons
I’ve learned that gratitude grows best in the soil of unexpected seasons. I used to think joy and hardship couldn’t coexist. But raising Rayven has taught me that hard seasons aren’t joyless seasons—they’re simply fuller ones. My life no longer revolves around my own dreams or plans. Instead, I’m finding delight in hers. I’m learning, daily, that love asks us to shift, to stretch, to surrender… and to receive blessings we never saw coming.
As I look at this year—the challenges, the surprises, the deep places where God has met me—one verse keeps rising to the surface:
Every good gift bestowed…comes from above.
James 1:17 (The Voice)
Rayven is that gift for me.
Unexpected.
Unplanned.
And utterly heaven-sent.
So this Christmas, my gratitude is wrapped in both memory and promise—the beauty of traditions past and the joy of building new ones with the sweet girl God placed in my arms. My heart is full, my coffee is warm, and the glow of the tree reminds me that God gives good gifts in every season . . . even the ones we never saw coming.
Meet Debbie Oliver
Debbie Oliver is an author, blogger, and Bible study leader passionate about encouraging women in their faith. With degrees in Psychology and Business Management, Debbie works in publishing and digital marketing while also volunteering as a writer, editor, and social media scheduler for various ministries.
A wife and mother of six, she lives in Colorado, where she is raising her grandbaby and enjoying a front-window view of the majestic Rocky Mountains. She finds joy in coffee, Pioneer Woman treasures, and winter days. Her mission? To lead, teach, and inspire women to grow deeper in their walk with Christ.
Where to find her . . .
Begin Within is a series to inspire a year-round lifestyle of gratitude that will impact not only your own life, but the lives of your neighbors as well. Gratitude is a theme we talk about often around here because it ties so closely into other missional living rhythms. Practicing gratitude reminds to keep our hearts soft and expectant and our eyes open. Therefore, the more we embrace gratitude, the easier it becomes to truly see our neighbors and where we can join what God is already doing in our neighborhoods.
If you would like to contribute to Begin Within, you can find the submission guidelines here.
