Autumn’s Notes

December brings such a unique rhythm into our home—part anticipation, part chaos, and definitely part Christmas sparkle. Some days it feels like our whole household is moving to its own little festive soundtrack—equal parts giggles, carols, and the occasional sibling “remix”, but even in all that motion, something new has grounded us this season.

We’re working through a beautiful devotional this year—25 Names of Jesus: A Family Advent Devotional Focused on Christ by Sarah Nazarian. Every morning, before the girls wake up, I sneak into the kitchen and set out that day’s wooden ornament beside the devotional, already opened to the right page. There’s just something sweet to me about their day beginning with the name of Jesus—before toys, before screens, before the rush and noise. A quiet little nudge: Start here. Start with Him.

Earlier this week, the ornament read “King of Kings.” The girls raced in, spotted it instantly, and picked it up with this quiet sort of awe—almost as if they just knew the title held weight. That evening, when we snuggled up for the devotional, the Scripture took us to Matthew 2:1–12, the story of the Wise Men following the star. We talked about how these travelers recognized something extraordinary—that the child they sought wasn’t just any king. He was the King of Kings, worthy of their journey, their gifts, and their worship.

Our middle daughter listened with her head tilted, soaking it all in. Then suddenly she asked, “If He’s the King of Kings… does that mean He’s also the boss of Santa?” I opened my mouth and then closed it again, because honestly, what theology class prepares a parent for that question? “Well,” I finally said, trying not to laugh, “I think He’s in charge of everything that’s real and everything that matters.” She nodded thoughtfully, then added with absolute seriousness, “Good. Because Santa needs to remember who’s really in charge.”

That night’s activity from the devotional was to make crowns as a family—construction paper, markers, pom-poms, glue sticks, and the most dangerous crafting substance known to humanity: glitter. Within minutes, the dining table looked like a craft store had exploded. The girls were thrilled. And the floor? Let’s just say clean-up required a very generous helping of patience from the Prince of Peace… good thing Jesus wore many crowns, because I needed the one labeled ‘Patience.’

The devotional encouraged us to turn on worship music while crafting, so we queued up our favorite Christian Christmas playlist. Before long, the girls were singing at full volume, squeezing glue like it was going out of style, and decorating their crowns with every sparkly thing their hands could reach. There’s something about little voices singing “O Come Let Us Adore Him” while flinging glitter that feels like holy chaos at its finest. It was loud, it was messy, it was chaotic—and it was also undeniably spirit lifting.

As I helped secure the final rhinestone button onto a very over-the-top, very overly glued crown, I found myself thinking about this second week of Advent—the week of Peace. Crowns usually stand for power, control, and authority. But the crown of our King of Kings looks completely different. His is a crown of humility, gentleness, and love. A crown that somehow brings peace to messy tables, noisy rooms, and tired hearts.

Parenting often feels like wearing a crown that’s just a little too big. But nights like this remind us: We are not meant to rule our little kingdom alone. We’re led by a King whose light still guides us—just as surely as the star guided the Wise Men.

And truly, it’s a good reminder that Jesus is the real reason for all the glitter, the crafts, the excitement, and even the chaos—and our kiddos already know it. Even amid the mess and noise, they know who’s really in charge. My hope is that as our children learn these names of Jesus, they discover what the Wise Men did: when we follow Him, we find a King worth bowing to—one who brings peace, joy, and sometimes even glitter into our days.

If you’re hoping to weave more of Jesus into your kids this Christmas, it can be simpler than we think. You don’t need a Pinterest-worthy craft or a spotless table (trust me—ours was glowing with glitter for days). Just pick something small: a verse at breakfast, placing a different piece at the nativity scene each night, a name of Jesus taped to the fridge. Or play a worship song while you fold laundry or make dinner—kids catch more faith from what they hear in our homes than we ever realize.

Kids remember the moments when Jesus feels close, not the ones where everything looks Hallmark perfect. And honestly, sometimes the messy moments preach the loudest. It doesn’t have to be perfect or polished—just intentional. God does a lot with our little.

May your days sparkle with a Christmas cheer, your home be filled with worshipful laughter, and your heart rest in the peace of knowing the King of Kings guides every step.
–A.