A Father on Christmas

My son’s tiny hand stretched toward the Christmas ornament, his fingers brushing the edge of a red truck dangling from the tree. His wide eyes reflected the glow of the lights, filled with awe and wonder, as if the world had slowed just for this moment.

I couldn’t look away. He doesn’t yet know what Christmas means, but watching him, I felt the weight of what this season will mean for our family. How do I, as his father, teach him to look beyond the lights and presents? How do I show him the Savior at the heart of it all?

This year, my thoughts keep returning to Joseph, the quiet figure in the nativity. We know so little about him—no words of his are recorded in Scripture—but his actions speak volumes. Joseph didn’t stand in the spotlight. He didn’t seek recognition. Instead, he faithfully obeyed God in the background, raising and protecting the Son of God.

I wonder what it was like for him to hold Jesus, knowing this child wasn’t his to keep. Did he feel overwhelmed by the responsibility? Did he wonder if he was enough?

I’ve been wrestling with those same questions. Fatherhood—and especially leading my family well during Christmas—feels both deeply joyful and deeply humbling. It’s easy to let the season become a flurry of distractions, where even good traditions can bury the meaning of Christ’s birth. But I want more for my family. I want my son to see Christmas for what it truly is—a celebration of the God who came to dwell among us.

Joseph’s example reminds me that faithfulness isn’t about perfection–it’s about showing up. It’s about small, intentional choices like reading the Christmas story aloud, pausing to pray, and choosing reflection over rush. These aren’t grand gestures, but they shape a foundation.

As I watched my son marvel at the ornament, I prayed that his wonder would one day extend beyond the lights and decorations to the Savior who came to rescue us all. That’s the legacy I want to leave—not just the memory of twinkling lights, but the light of Christ at the forefront of our home, our hearts, and our lives.