Christmas Countdown: Hope Has Arrived and Joy Is Coming!

Hi, everyone. I am so excited!

I know you usually here from me on Fridays or Saturdays, but this couldn’t wait.

We are in the final stretch, you guys! Christmas is just around the corner and I am absolutely thrilled! Here's the thing...this season isn't just about the presents or the decorations (although, to be really honest here—I love both of those things!). It's about something much deeper and far richer.

This is the season of hope, of light breaking into darkness, of Love Himself stepping into our messy, beautiful world. And I really want you to feel that this year. Not just know it in your head, but feel it in the very marrow your bones and the sinew of your soul.

Let me repeat that. The heart of this season isn't found in perfect holiday cards or flawlessly wrapped presents. It’s found in the quiet moments when you pause long enough to remember why we celebrate at all.

Case in point: I was thinking about the very first Christmas morning. Not the one we celebrate with trees and stockings, but the original one—a young mother, a humble carpenter, a stable that probably smelled like...well, let's not go there. And in the middle of all that imperfection, all that chaos, God showed up.

That’s what I love about this story! God doesn’t wait for everything to be perfect. He meets us right where we are—in the mess, in the struggle, in the beautifully imperfect reality of our lives.

Now then...I’m going to be throwing a lot of information at you over these next few days leading up to Christmas, but stay with me because this is important!

Christmas teaches us three transformative truths:

1. You are seen. God didn’t send His Son to a palace or to the powerful. He came to ordinary people—shepherds, fishermen, tax collectors. He saw them. He sees you. Right now, in whatever season you’re walking through, you are seen and known and loved.

2. You are not alone. Emmanuel means “God with us.” Not God watching from a distance. Not God judging from on high. God WITH us. In the trenches. In the struggle. Bringing the hope. That hope changes everything!

3. Hope is real. Even when circumstances look dark—and they did look dark in that stable, in that occupied land, in that broken world—hope showed up anyway. Hope is stubborn like that. It refuses to be extinguished.

All right, now...before I get too carried away (which, let’s face it, I tend to do during the holidays!), I want to give you a practical challenge for these final days before Christmas.

Here's your homework (Yes, you have homework):

Each day until Christmas, pause for just five minutes. That's it. Just five minutes. Put down your phone, step away from the to-do list, and ask yourself: "What am I truly grateful for today?"

Write it down. Speak it out loud. Share it with someone you love. Start keeping your Gratefulness List. And, guys, this is one list I really want you to start checking twice! 

So why am I asking you—no, begging you—to do this silly simple exercise? Because gratefulness is your greatest weapon against the darkness that seeks to drown out all hope! The minute you start practicing gratitude—really practicing it—you stop seeing the one Crooked Tree that you want but can’t have and you start seeing the abundance of Eden’s garden of blessings all around you instead. You stop seeing the overwhelming darkness of the night and you start seeing the virgin-born Child of Light.

Happiness is fleeting and will leave you feeling empty (don’t ask me how I know this). What you need instead is a good dose of joy. But in order to find joy, you have to first learn contentment. Because the minute that you are ungrateful, you stop seeing the garden and you start seeing the one Crooked, Snake-Infested Tree. And as soon as you reach out your hand in longing to that tree, that's when fear and doubt and bitterness and despair are close enough to bite you.

Let me be really, really honest here. I’ve struggled with this too. For years.

There have been Christmases when I was so focused on making everything perfect—the decorations, the gifts, the meals, the website, the merch—that I completely missed the magic. I was so busy creating the experience that I forgot to actually experience it.

There have also been Christmases in which my one Crooked Tree was the Charlie Brown Christmas tree, which was more than we could afford so we had no tree. And I hated every minute. And I couldn’t see the mountain of blessings past the pile of “not enough”. And I wanted to just curl up and quit!

Guys, I’ve missed it both ways! So I’m giving you (and me) permission right here and now: Let something be imperfect this year. Let the cookies burn a little. Let the wrapping paper have some crooked edges. Let the kids make a mess. Let yourself rest.

No one’s perfect. That’s okay! God is our perfect; that's why He came!

Here’s what I want you to remember as we count down these final days: The best gift you can give anyone this Christmas isn’t wrapped in paper. It’s wrapped in time.

Your presence. Your attention. Your authentic, wholehearted engagement with the people right in front of you.

So put down your phone during Christmas dinner. Look your loved ones in the eye. Ask them real questions and actually listen to the answers. Tell them you love them. Tell them they matter. Tell them you’re grateful they’re in your life. Help them remember that you are in this together.

Regardless of where you are right now—whether you’re thriving or barely surviving, whether this has been the best year of your life or the hardest—Christmas is coming. Hope is coming. Light is breaking through.

And I am cheering you on every step of the way! I’m so excited to celebrate this season with you, to remind you of the incredible truth at the heart of Christmas, and to encourage you to really, truly embrace the hope that's available to you.

So let’s make these final days count, okay?

Let’s choose hope. Let’s practice gratitude. Let’s embrace joy. Let’s be present. Let’s remember what really matters.

May your days be merry and bright!

With all my love and excitement,

Alycia Christine