The Best Part of Christmas Is Always Unexpected

I’ve always loved a good Christmas surprise.

Not the flashy kind or the look-at-me kind—but the quiet, thoughtful surprises that land softly and linger long after the wrapping paper is gone. The ones that make someone pause, feel seen, and maybe even tear up a little. The kind that say, I thought of you.

The older I get, the more I realize that my love of surprises is deeply tied to the true meaning of Christmas itself.

Christmas is, at its heart, the most unexpected story imaginable.

The God of the universe—holy, infinite, all-powerful—looked at humanity and did not turn away. He saw us. He loved us. And instead of remaining distant or demanding that we reach Him, He came to us.

Quietly. Humbly. Unexpectedly.

Not to the rich or the powerful.

Not to the polished or the perfect.

But to a small town.

To a young couple.

To shepherds watching sheep in the dark.

On paper, it didn’t make sense. And yet, that is precisely what makes it so profound.

Every Christmas surprise I plan—every hidden detail, every thoughtful gesture, every moment meant to delight rather than impress—is my small reflection of that truth. That love often arrives when we aren’t expecting it. That the most meaningful gifts are rarely the loudest ones. That presence matters more than perfection.

Surprises say, You were worth the effort.

They say, You were on my mind when you weren’t in the room.

They say, I wanted to bring you joy, not because I had to—but because I wanted to.

And isn’t that what Christmas is?

A reminder that we are seen.

That we are loved exactly where we are.

That hope doesn’t always arrive with fanfare—but often through humility, intention, and grace.

I think that’s why I love creating moments at Christmas—through gatherings, traditions, tables, gifts, or small unexpected touches. It’s never just about the surprise itself. It’s about creating a space where people feel safe, welcomed, and cherished. Where hearts soften. Where joy sneaks in quietly and stays awhile.

Because Christmas was never meant to be perfect.

It was meant to be personal.

And sometimes, the most meaningful surprises aren’t the ones under the tree—but the ones that remind us we are deeply known, deeply loved, and never overlooked.

That, to me, is the magic of Christmas.