Every Christmas, my husband and I look forward to watching our favorite holiday movie, It’s a Wonderful Life. The main character, George Bailey, grows up in the small town of Bedford Falls with big dreams of traveling the world and chasing adventure. But when his father passes away, George sets those dreams aside to take over the family bank. He marries, starts a family, and pours himself into serving his community; offering building loans, helping families own homes, and choosing responsibility over personal ambition again and again.
Even his honeymoon is sacrificed. On the very day they are supposed to leave town, the stock market crashes, and George gives away the money meant for their trip so his neighbors don’t lose everything. Years later, after a lifetime of choosing others first, a simple mistake threatens to undo it all. On Christmas Eve, $8,000 goes missing, and George is faced with the terrifying possibility that he could lose everything he has worked for; his business, his reputation, his home, and his family.
Overwhelmed and exhausted, George reaches a breaking point. It’s in that moment of despair that an angel shows him what life would look like if he had never existed. Bedford Falls becomes Pottersville—dark, broken, and empty of goodness. The absence of George’s quiet faithfulness leaves a visible wound on the town and the people he loved most. When George realizes the depth of his impact, he runs home, desperate simply to live. What he finds waiting for him is a house full of love and a town united; neighbors pouring in, repaying his generosity with their own. The hope George had lost is fully restored.
This year, It’s a Wonderful Life resonates more deeply than it ever has before.
I wake up every day with a grateful heart, humbled by what feels like a second chance at life, one made possible by God and by the overwhelming kindness of our community.
In July, John and I found out we were expecting our third baby. It was summertime. The cows were out on pasture. Life was busy, full, and good. And then, in what felt like the blink of an eye, everything changed.
One month later, I found myself pacing hospital hallways while John underwent emergency heart surgery and fought for his life in the ICU. I was terrified; of losing my husband, of losing our baby, of losing the farm we’ve poured our hearts and souls into. Like George Bailey, I was staring down the possibility that everything we had sacrificed and worked so hard for might be taken from us.
John was critically ill. He couldn’t breathe on his own. He was in too much pain to speak. We sat together in the ICU in near silence; me holding his hand, watching machines breathe for him, watching his body struggle and fail him piece by piece. His heart, his lungs, his kidneys, all shutting down. I remember the weight of that room, the steady beeping, the feeling that time had stopped while everything familiar was slipping away.
But despite the odds, John began to heal.
Slowly, miraculously, he started breathing on his own again. He spoke again. He walked again. Today, you wouldn’t know by looking at him the battles his body has endured. John is strong, steadfast, encouraging, continuing to provide for our family in every way he can. He still awaits a valve replacement and has permanent damage to his lungs and kidneys, but through it all, God has been so incredibly faithful. Every single need has been met.
Just like George Bailey, when all seemed hopeless, God made a way where there appeared to be none.
Our “Bedford Falls” showed up in ways we could never have imagined. Help came from every direction: our fire department and EMS, families babysitting our children, friends helping with farm chores, showing up for Family Farm Day, baking, delivering meals, donating hay for our cattle and firewood for our home, fixing our well pump, helping with medical bills, providing Christmas gifts for our children. Every need met. Every burden shared. And we never even had to ask.
This holiday season is extra special because it has revealed the greatest gift of all: sacrificial love. Every person who helped us gave something—time, money, energy, comfort. And not one act of kindness has gone unnoticed.
It all points me back to Christ and the ultimate example of sacrificial love.
“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
—John 3:16 (KJV)
There is no gift under the tree that could ever compare to the gift of having my entire family together this Christmas. And when I look around at this life; at the land we steward, the children we’re raising, the work that ties us to our community, and the people who carried us when we couldn’t stand on our own, I’m reminded that this is a wonderful life.
Not a life without hardship. Not a life without sacrifice. But a life rich in purpose, rooted in faith, and surrounded by people who show up when it matters most. A life where love looks like service, where community feels like family, and where God’s provision often arrives through the hands of others.
Thank you to everyone who has shown us Christ-like love in this season. This truly has been the most meaningful Christmas of my life, and the depth of my gratitude cannot be put into words. My only Christmas wish is that one day, our family can reflect that same generosity and sacrificial love back into the lives of others, just as it has been poured into ours.
Because when all is said and done, a wonderful life isn’t measured by ease or success; but by love given, love received, and the people we get to share it with.
Merry Christmas!