This month, I’m honored to share a piece written by my mother, the epitome of a storyteller and the woman who inspired my love for sharing stories. She had an extraordinary way of finding meaning and beauty in the interruptions of life, weaving them into lessons that have stayed with me long after her passing in 2021. Though she is no longer with us, her stories remain—a treasured legacy of wisdom, faith, and love. I am thrilled to have her as our guest blogger this month, and I hope her words touch your heart as deeply as they continue to touch mine.

A Christmas Without a Tree:

By Dawn S. Neely

During the Christmas holidays of 2013, our family faced an unexpected upheaval. My husband had accepted a position at a new church, and we were to move cities right in the middle of the holiday season. Instead of decorating, shopping, or hosting festive gatherings, I found myself buried in boxes, tape, and trips to donate items we no longer needed. Christmas as I knew it—filled with sparkle, tradition, and comfort—was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was chaos, clutter, and exhaustion.

I was overwhelmed, and to be honest, I wasn’t handling it well. I stewed in my own misery, allowing my frustration to grow until it consumed me. I became a holiday Grinch, wallowing in bitterness over what I had lost: my normal Christmas traditions.

One night, sitting among the disarray of packing supplies and half-wrapped gifts, I turned to God. I poured out my frustrations and asked Him for clarity, for peace, for something to help me get through this. As I prayed, I felt a gentle nudge to open my Bible. It led me to the Christmas story in Luke, chapter 1.

The passage was familiar, but as I read it with my weary, overwhelmed heart, something new stirred within me. I thought about Mary—young, unprepared, and faced with a life-altering announcement from the angel Gabriel. Her life was turned upside down in ways that far surpassed my Christmas chaos. The questions she must have wrestled with, the whispers and judgment from her community, and the fear of the unknown were surely monumental.

And yet, Mary responded with such grace and faith. Her words struck me: *“Behold, the bond slave of the Lord; may it be done to me according to Your word.” (Luke 1:38, NAS) She accepted her divine interruption with humility, trusting that God’s plan for her life was far greater than anything she could have imagined.

I looked around at the mess surrounding me—empty cabinets, boxes stacked high, and a family room devoid of its usual holiday cheer. I realized my own selfishness and how I had let my frustration blind me to God’s presence. In that moment, I prayed for forgiveness and asked for a change of heart.

The move didn’t get easier overnight, but something shifted within me. As I packed the last of the boxes and prepared for this new chapter, I embraced the adventure, trusting that God’s hand was guiding us. That Christmas, though devoid of decorations or a tree, became one of the most meaningful of my life. In stepping away from my usual traditions, I found the true meaning of the season—faith, obedience, and the joy of surrendering to God’s will.

Life doesn’t always go the way we plan. In fact, it rarely does. But as Mary’s story reminds us, those interruptions are often opportunities for God to work in ways we never expected. Faith doesn’t promise us an easy road; it promises us the best road, one that leads to His purpose and glory.

So, the next time your plans are interrupted, I encourage you to pause and reflect. Instead of focusing on the chaos, look for God’s hand at work. Tell the storm how big your God is, and trust that He is molding you, preparing you for something greater than you can imagine.

I’ll never forget that Christmas of 2013 or the lessons I learned from Mary’s story. It was a season of transformation, and it continues to remind me that being in His will is far more fulfilling than any earthly tradition or comfort.

Dear reader, whatever interruption you’re facing today, may you find peace in knowing that God is with you, working in the background, just as He did for Mary.