As I close my eyes, I can almost smell the aroma of freshly baked cookies and coffee filling the air. Soon it will be the day our family gathers for what we call “baking day” — a tradition carried for decades now, with three generations represented in my mom’s kitchen. We pull out the flour and sugar, and the baking begins with aprons tied, three KitchenAid mixers humming, and recipe cards smudged with butter and batter from years past.

But baking day is about so much more than cookies cooling on the counter. It’s the sacred rhythm of gathering. It’s daughters and granddaughters laughing as they frost sugar cookies. It’s adult kids making space in their busy schedules to come home . . . and the shared stories that weave our family together.

It’s also a reminder of the faith planted in us when we were children. Hymns play in the background as we roll out the dough. Conversations turn to the Christmas Eve service we’ll soon attend. While cookies fill the tins, Christ fills the center of our celebration. Because, while family traditions may fill our homes with sweetness, it’s the faith we pass down that nourishes hearts for generations.

In Acts 2:46 (NIV), we are reminded, “Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts.” Our family’s baking tradition is one small glimpse of that gladness — an echo of what it means to gather, break bread, and rejoice in the hope of Jesus.

The legacy of faith and the legacy of baking are both gifts that get passed down, generation to generation. And while our cookies may never look Pinterest-worthy, they do carry something far sweeter: The story of God’s goodness at work in our family.

At the end of the day, with a full belly and a full heart, I am reminded of Mary’s posture:

But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.
Luke 2:19

That’s what baking day is for me — a chance to treasure, to pause, to ponder. And maybe that’s the invitation for all of us this Christmas. That, beyond simply passing down recipes, we pass down a legacy of faith that nourishes souls long after the last cookie is gone.