grace given me

’Tis the season to be Christmas shopping, and if your inbox or social feed looks anything like mine, you’re probably being bombarded with listicles promising the best gifts of 2025. Suddenly every influencer has a “Top 10 Must-Haves,” “Gifts You Didn’t Know You Needed,” or “What I’m Buying for Everyone on My List.” And honestly? I’m here for it.

These creators are good. They’re passionate and engaging, relatable and creative. They’re true enthusiasts. They don’t just sell products—they sell potential, the promise of something better than you have today. And without even realizing it, I find myself nodding along, clicking links, and somehow ending up in the checkout process. Their excitement becomes contagious. Their enthusiasm becomes persuasive. Their recommendations feel like helpful guidance from a trusted friend.

All this influencing got me thinking… As much as I love a good gift roundup, it’s not just physical products we’re being influenced by during this season—it’s the atmospheres we walk into every day. Life is full of environments: the work break room, your extended family gathering, your child’s sports sidelines, the grocery store line, even the group chat that pings at 10 p.m. Some spaces feel light and energizing, others feel heavy, negative, or anxious. And whether we realize it or not, we are being affected by the spaces we inhabit.

But here’s the question worth pausing for:
Do we let the atmosphere shape us, or do we step in as the ones who shape it?

I’ve heard it said that cowardice is contagious. So is cynicism. So is fear. So is doubt. You can feel it when you walk into a room and everyone is complaining or criticizing. It pulls at you. It tries to drag you into the undertow. But here’s the powerful truth: courage is contagious too. Hope is contagious. Joy is contagious. Faith is contagious.

Have you ever been in a bleak situation—maybe you’re stressed, stuck, or spiraling—and suddenly one person says, “Yeah, but you can do this”? And just like that, something shifts. A spark flickers. Possibility opens up. You suddenly have a vision for it. One person with hope can influence an entire room.

Jesus told His followers: “You are the salt of the earth” (Matthew 5:13) and “You are the light of the world” (Matthew 5:14). Salt influences everything it touches. Light transforms whatever space it’s in—effortlessly. Paul writes that we are the “aroma of Christ” (2 Corinthians 2:15). We can carry his fragrance and draw people toward life. Imagine if everywhere we walked, people could tangibly sense something different—something hopeful, safe, peaceful, steady. Not because we tried hard, or performed, or mustered spiritual energy… but because we simply carried the love we’ve received.

When you spend time with Jesus—when you let him love you, fill you, speak identity over you—you begin to walk through life with a full tank. And full people overflow. There are enough chaos-creators in the world. Enough drama-stirrers. Enough downers and doubters. We don’t need to join them—and we don’t have to be swept up by them. We can go in with intention. With love. We can go in as influencers of hope.

I’ve experienced this shift personally. Before Jesus—before I knew my identity as his, before I understood my worth as a daughter of the King, before I believed I was fully loved just as I am—I entered rooms self-focused and self-protective. My internal dialogue sounded like: What will people think of me? Do they like me? How can I present myself so I fit in? I brought my insecurities with me like invisible luggage, hoping no one could see them. But masks are still masks. At my core, my faith was unsteady. Inevitably, I would get swept up in whatever environment I walked into.

But now? As I’m being loved up, healed, and grounded in who I am in Christ, something beautiful is happening. I feel called to step into rooms differently. I’m not walking in to get something anymore—I’m walking in to give something. My heart feels open. My spirit feels steady. There’s a gravitational pull toward spreading hope, love, and peace—toward being a positive influence rather than a reactive participant.

This is what happens when Jesus fills you: You become a carrier of his love. You become a thermostat, not a thermometer. You become an influencer—of the best kind.

Lord, thank you for being the top influencer of all time, worthy of all our following. Teach us your ways. Make us influencers of hope. Make us people who carry your presence in every room we enter. Let our words be seasoned with grace, our posture marked by peace, our presence filled with your love. Teach us to walk as salt, light, and the fragrance of Christ—overflowing with what you’ve poured into us. Amen.