The Best Gift Your Family Wants This Christmas: Your Presence

What if your kids remember your phone more than your face this Christmas?

That question stings because it is not really about technology. It’s about attention. It’s about

the look in your child’s eyes when they are talking and you are half there. It’s about the spouse who tries one more time to tell you something, then decides it’s not worth competing with a screen. It’s about the quiet grief that creeps in when the people closest to us feel like background noise in our own home.

Here is the hope. You do not need a perfect holiday. You do not need a memory-making marathon. You do not need to swear off your phone forever and move to a cabin. You need something far simpler, and far more powerful.

You need presence.

This is one of the reasons the Christmas story hits so deeply when we slow down long enough to hear it. John 1:14 does not say God sent better advice. It says, “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” God closed the distance. He came near. He showed up.

Matt and Laura Coppinger have built their family life around that kind of nearness. They have eleven kids, including seven younger children adopted through foster care, many carrying significant trauma and neurodivergent challenges, including autism diagnoses. Their home is loud, complicated, beautiful, exhausting, and deeply human. So when they talk about practicing presence with their kids, it’s not as a couple trying out a cute parenting trend.

They talk about it like people who know what is at stake.

Because for kids who have been through loss, presence is not a luxury. It is medicine. And for the rest of us, presence is still the most underrated form of love.

God With Us Means We Put The Phone Down

The phrase “dwelt among us” in John 1:14 carries the idea of God pitching His tent with humanity. He did not love us from a distance. He moved in. He made Himself available. He came close enough to be interrupted. Close enough to be misunderstood. Close enough to feel the full weight of human need.

That is why Emmanuel, “God with us,” is not only a doctrine. It is a model. It shows us what love looks like in motion.

In the Coppinger home, one practice that protects that “with-ness” is what they call a mini Sabbath. It is not a rigid, idealized 24-hour plan. It is a deliberate pause. A moment where the family stops, not because everything is finished, but because love is more important than productivity. They re-center on delighting in God and delighting in each other.

That idea matters because so many of us are waiting to be present until life calms down. But life rarely calms down on its own. Presence is usually something you choose while the noise is still happening.

The goal is not moral superiority. It is relational health.

Every Person Wants To Be Seen

Laura shared a moment that has stayed with her for decades. Her mom had died, and she walked into a family reunion for the first time without the person who always watched for her entrance. Relatives were kind, but something felt missing. Nobody was looking for her in that special way.

That grief became a lesson.

Most of us do not realize how much our children are scanning the room for us, not just physically, but emotionally. They want the moment when they walk in and you light up. They want the small confirmation that says, “There you are. I’m glad you’re here.”

For Laura and Matt, this is especially important for their younger seven who came through foster care. When a child has experienced instability, inconsistent caregiving, or trauma, being “seen” is not sentimental, it is stabilizing. Safety is built through repeated, predictable moments of loving attention.

That is why their family rhythms sound so simple and yet so profound. A fire pit conversation where everyone shares the favorite part of the day. A deliberate “I’m so happy to see you” when a child walks into the room. A commitment to recognize that attention cannot always be equal, because needs are not always equal, but love must still be unmistakable.

The good news is that presence is not complicated. It’s just rare.

When Someone Is In Pain, Your Presence Preaches

One of the most moving parts of Matt and Laura’s story is how they talk about suffering. When a child is flooded with fear, or stuck in fight-or-flight, there are moments when you cannot reason your way out of it. You cannot lecture. You cannot “fix” it. You can only stay.

Laura mentioned phrases they have learned to avoid, especially the classic “calm down,” which usually adds heat rather than peace. Instead, she returns to steady words that function like handrails in a storm: “I’m here with you.” “You are safe.” “Jesus is with us.” “I know your heart hurts.”

This is truth wrapped in tenderness.

It is also a picture of Christmas. Jesus did not come to deliver a speech from the clouds. He came into the ache. He entered our pain without flinching. He stayed close enough for people to touch Him, question Him, and even reject Him.

Parents of children with trauma histories or neurodivergent needs often carry a unique weight because progress can be slow, unpredictable, and exhausting. Laura’s honesty about needing to borrow the coping skills her kids are learning in therapy is refreshing because it removes the superhero myth. She is not calm because she is naturally calm. She is calm because she is practicing, breathing, and depending on the Holy Spirit for patience.

That is a word many parents need right after Christmas, when everyone is tired, routines are broken, and the house feels like it needs an intervention. The day after the holiday can reveal what is really in us. Tension. Irritability. Numbness.

So Laura does something tiny that turns her heart back toward love. She chooses a coffee mug.

Her mugs represent her children. She picks one in the morning, prays, and later the child recognizes, “You prayed for me today.” A small object becomes a repeated reminder: “I’m not just managing you. I’m loving you.”

Small moments have a way of multiplying when they are repeated with intention.

Listening Turns Hearts Faster Than Lecturing

Christmas gatherings can bring old dynamics into the room fast. A teenager snaps. A relative picks a fight. A child melts down. Someone you love makes a decision you cannot support. You feel your blood pressure rise and the urge to win the moment.

Laura described what they have learned in conflict with their older younger kids, especially those who feel an intense need for control. Often the battle is not really about what it appears to be. It is not about the lost privilege or the “no” you gave. It is about something deeper that the child cannot always name in the moment.

So Laura and Matt try to take a step back, stay calm, and ask what is really going on. They still hold boundaries. Consequences still exist. But the tone shifts from domination to connection. From “I’m going to crush this behavior” to “I want to understand your heart.”

Rules without relationship tend to breed rebellion. Presence builds trust.

Creating Family Rhythms That Keep Jesus At The Center

Some Christmas traditions are sweet. Some are expensive. Some are exhausting. The best ones tend to do something simpler: they form the heart.

Matt and Laura shared practices that shape their home culture, and what stands out is how ordinary they are. None of them require a perfect schedule or a Pinterest-worthy plan. They require attention.

At bedtime, Laura looks each child in the eyes and speaks a blessing over them, drawn from Numbers 6: “The Lord bless you and watch over you. The Lord make His face shine on you and give you peace.” Even their two-year-old is starting to echo the words back. Night after night, that kind of rhythm builds security.

They also have a simple mealtime pattern where each child repeats a short Scripture phrase, from the simplest “God is love” to longer verses for the older kids. It is not meant to perform spirituality. It is meant to seed truth into memory.

Presence becomes structural. It is not just a feeling. It is a rhythm.

The Parenting Pressure You Can Finally Drop

One of the most freeing moments came when Laura talked about the “gaps” every parent leaves behind. She can see her older kids as adults and recognize, with humility, that she did not do everything right. And yet God filled in what she could not.

That perspective gives her hope for the younger seven, because the needs are immense and the outcomes are not fully in her hands. She is not the savior of her children. She is a faithful presence. God is the One who heals, steadies, and completes what we cannot.

If you have ever felt crushed by the idea that your kids’ future is riding on your performance, let Christmas preach to you again.

God did not send you a checklist. He sent you Himself.

And He is still the One closing the distance.

A Christmas Prayer For The Distracted Parent

If you are tired, distracted, or discouraged, do not start with grand vows. Start with a small yes.

Ask God to make you brave enough to sit in someone else’s storm. Ask Him to help you trade distraction for presence so the people you love feel truly loved. Ask Him to multiply your not-enough into big love in someone else’s life.

Then practice presence in one ordinary moment today. You may be surprised how much changes when you simply show up.

If you want help building daily “spiritual reps” that fit real life, explore resources at backtothebible.org. If you need prayer or someone to talk to, reach out through the Contact page.

Your family does not need a more impressive version of you.

They need you.

Present.

FAQs

What does John 1:14 mean when it says Jesus “dwelt among us”?

The language carries the idea of God “tabernacling” with humanity, pitching His tent among us. It emphasizes nearness, presence, and relational closeness.

Is it really that harmful to use my phone around my kids?

The issue is not having a phone, it is frequent interruption of connection. Repeated device interruptions can weaken parent-child interaction and increase conflict over time.

What’s a realistic way to reduce distraction without becoming extreme?

Start with predictable screen-free moments that protect connection, like meals, bedtime, or a short daily window of undivided attention.

How do I help a hurting child when I can’t fix their pain?

You do not need perfect words. You need steady presence. Safety, consistency, and calm connection help over time.

What’s one small practice that helps parents stay loving when they’re exhausted?

Tie love to an ordinary moment you already do every day, like morning coffee, a bedtime blessing, or a brief check-in at dinner.

P.S. If you have a comment or prayer request, contact me here: or call me and leave a message at 1-800-811-2387. And be sure to join me tomorrow through Friday on our new podcast Spiritually Fit Today.