12/16/2025
Every Christmas, my kids beg to pull out the old toy train—the one that chugs faithfully around the base of the tree. They load the little carts to overflowing with Lincoln Logs and copper BBs (don’t ask me why those two things; it’s just tradition now), then sit cross-legged on the floor, eyes wide, watching it circle again and again with pure, uncontainable joy. Their imaginations turn those simple laps into grand adventures.
This year, I caught my oldest lingering a little longer than usual, still smiling at the train’s familiar clickety-clack on the track. My heart swelled seeing that spark still alive in him. But in the same moment, a quiet ache crept in—how many more Christmases will look like this? How many more years before the magic of red noises reindeer and flying sleighs gently fades from their world?
And yet, as I watched them, I felt deep peace too. Because woven through every season of their lives, we’ve told them the deeper story: the stable, the star, the baby who came to bring light into darkness. We’ve read it, acted it out, sung it, prayed it—over and over, not just in December, but all year long.
The glitter will eventually wear off. The toys will break or be outgrown. The childish wonder at Santa and sparkling trees will one day give way to something quieter. But the truth of that holy night? That will stay. Jesus—the Light of the World—doesn’t fade. He doesn’t break. He remains.
So yes, I’ll cherish these fleeting moments of trains and laughter and wide-eyed belief in magic. But even more, I’m grateful for the eternal gift we’re giving them: a Savior who will walk with them long after the ornaments are packed away.
Enjoy your little ones while they’re little, friends. The years are swift, but His love is forever. ❤️🎄
(Yes my kids fight like crazy but there are good times too and yes that jar at the tree base “was” full of BBs and now they are all over my house floors 😆.)