I made a holiday mistake a few years ago.

I bought wrapping paper with glitter on it.

At the time, it seemed festive. Magical, even. The presents under the tree shimmered. Everything sparkled. Christmas morning arrived, and my kids tore into their gifts with the kind of joyful abandon only kids can manage.

And then—glitter everywhere.

Not just on the floor. On the couch. In the carpet. In places I didn’t know glitter could travel. I spent most of Christmas Day vacuuming. And vacuuming. And vacuuming some more—while my vision of sipping coffee by the fireplace slowly faded away.

The glitter didn’t leave the next day. Or the next week. Months later, I was still finding it.

Years later, when I opened a box of decorations, there it was again—those same stray specks of glitter, stubbornly hanging on.

This time, I laughed.

What once felt like an irritation had transformed into a memory. A story. A reminder of a season that was full, loud, messy, and meaningful.

That’s the richness of life, isn’t it?

In the moment, emotions are intense. Experiences feel heavy or overwhelming or confusing. But time and perspective have a way of reshaping them—sometimes softening the edges, sometimes revealing meaning we couldn’t see when we were standing in the middle of it.

Hate can become understanding.
Love can end—and make room for something healthier.
Breakups can feel devastating and later reveal themselves as turning points.
Setbacks can become catalysts.
And what once felt like a curse can quietly become a gift.

Change works that way.

There’s good change. There’s hard change. And then there’s the kind of change that’s so intense, you can’t tell whether it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you—or the worst.

The holidays tend to stir all of that up.

They invite reflection. They slow us down just enough to catch our breath. And they often shine a spotlight on what’s working in our lives—and what isn’t.

So let me ask you:

How are you, really?

My hope is that you’re reading this with a sense of gratitude and peace. But I also know the holidays can be complicated. Even when things are good for us personally, someone we love may be struggling. Or we may be carrying something quietly ourselves.

Wherever you find yourself right now, I invite you to wander—mentally speaking.

Look for what’s shining in your life.

Pay attention to the moments, situations, and relationships that might someday become important memories—even if they don’t feel shiny today.

Think of glitter.

Not all of it is gold.
Some of it is obvious.
Some of it gets everywhere and overstays its welcome.
And some of it won’t reveal its meaning until years from now.

But I promise you this: the glitter is there.

Sometimes you just need time—and perspective—to see it.

My very best wishes to you and yours.