Part Six: Between the Twinkle and the Manger: Finding True Hope This Christmas Eve

On Christmas Eve, we pause between the twinkle of lights and the glow of the manger.

It’s a quiet space — somewhere between wrapping paper and reverence, between tradition and truth. The house feels different tonight. Softer. Slower. Even the noise of the season seems to take a breath.

And in that pause, I find myself thinking about hope.

There is a difference between Santa’s joy and the hope of Jesus — but that doesn’t mean one must cancel out the other.

Santa represents something real, even if the character himself isn’t. He brings wonder. Generosity. Imagination. For children especially, Santa becomes a symbol of goodness — that someone is watching, that kindness is rewarded, that joy can show up unexpectedly. Those moments matter. They shape memories. They teach us to give.

And there’s nothing wrong with that.

But Jesus brings a different kind of hope.

A deeper one.

While Santa’s joy lives in a season, Jesus’ hope lives beyond it.

The Christmas tree sparkles with beauty and warmth. It fills the room and makes everything feel alive. But the manger — simple, quiet, unassuming — tells a story that didn’t begin with comfort and didn’t end with it either. It tells the story of love entering a broken world, not wrapped in luxury, but in humility.

Christmas isn’t just about what we celebrate — it’s about why.

Jesus didn’t come to create a moment.

He came to change eternity.

The Bible says, “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.” (Hebrews 6:19)

That’s the kind of hope Christmas ultimately points to.

A hope that doesn’t fade when the lights come down.

A hope that doesn’t disappear when the season ends.

A hope that holds steady when life feels uncertain.

Faith, at its core, isn’t about having all the answers or getting everything right. It’s about believing that Jesus came out of love — to offer forgiveness, grace, and a relationship with God. It’s about trusting that His birth mattered, not just historically, but personally.

And if this season has stirred something in your heart — a curiosity, a longing, a quiet question you haven’t been able to shake — know this: salvation isn’t complicated. It doesn’t require perfection. It begins with trust. With believing. With opening your heart and asking Jesus to lead your life.

If that’s something you’re thinking about — or if you’ve made that decision and don’t quite know what comes next — I would genuinely love to hear from you. Send me a message. I’d be honored to talk, listen, or simply walk alongside you in that moment.

Tonight, we can celebrate both.

The joy of giving.

The wonder of tradition.

The laughter of children.

The warmth of togetherness.

But let’s also remember the hope that lasts long after Christmas morning.

The hope found not under the tree — but in the manger.

Because that hope didn’t just come for a season.

It came for you.

John Cook • December 24, 2025