Posted in Moments and Musings

Five Things I Want My Granddaughter to Know About Me

Sweet girl,
You are still tiny. You don’t know my name yet, except maybe “that lady who smells like coffee and hugs.” But one day, when you’re older and wondering who this grandma of yours really is, I want you to know a few very important things.

Preferably before I sneak you an extra snack.

1. I’ve Always Got Your Back

Always. Forever. No fine print.

No matter what happens in your life—scraped knees, broken hearts, middle school drama, or that one questionable haircut—I am in your corner. Loudly. Enthusiastically. Possibly with snacks.

I will cheer you on, defend you when you need defending, and quietly help you clean up messes without making you feel small. I won’t always agree with you, but I will always love you.

“The Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.” —Psalm 121:8

And if the Lord is watching over you, you can bet Grandma is too—probably from the sidelines with a coffee.

2. I’ve Always Got Your Parents’ Back (Yes, Really)

This one might surprise you someday.

Your parents love you fiercely and are doing their very best—even on the days they’re tired, unsure, or Googling things at midnight. I will support them, pray for them, and stand with them, because loving you well means loving the people raising you.

That said… I reserve the right to occasionally say, “Well, Grandma might’ve handled that differently,” after bedtime.

“Children are a heritage from the Lord.” —Psalm 127:3

You are a gift, and your parents are the stewards of that gift. I’m here to help—never to undermine.

(But I will still give you an extra hug.)

3. I Will Always Be Praying for You

Even when you don’t know it. Especially when you don’t know it.

I will pray over your health, your heart, your friendships, your faith, and your future. I will pray when you’re happy and when you’re hurting. When words fail you, prayer won’t fail me.

You will be covered in prayer like a cozy blanket—warm, steady, and wrapped tight.

“I thank my God every time I remember you.” —Philippians 1:3

Sometimes my prayers will be specific. Sometimes they’ll just be, “Lord, help her.” But they will always be constant.

4. I Will Always Have Fun Snacks

This is not a metaphor. This is a promise.

My house will be a safe place, a soft place, and a snacky place. There will be things your parents don’t usually buy. There will be treats that appear when you’re sad, bored, celebrating, or “just because.”

I believe snacks are love in edible form.

“Taste and see that the Lord is good.” —Psalm 34:8

And yes, sometimes that goodness looks like cookies.

5. I Will Keep All Your Secrets

All of them.
Well… almost all of them.

I will be a safe place for your thoughts, your fears, your dreams, and your questions. You can talk to me without worrying I’ll shame you or laugh at you (unless you want me to laugh with you).

If something is too big for just us, I’ll help you find the right way to share it—but I will never betray your trust.

“A friend loves at all times.” —Proverbs 17:17

And Grandma is your friend for life.

Sweet girl, I don’t know what kind of world you’ll grow up in. I don’t know all the challenges you’ll face or the joys that will surprise you. But I do know this:

You will always be loved.
You will always be prayed for.
You will always be welcomed.
You will always have snacks.

And I will always be your grandma—right here, with my arms open and my heart full.

Amen and pass the cookies. 🍪💗

© 2025 VikkiLynnSorensen. All Rights Reserved.
Posted in Moments and Musings

Passing Down More Than Traditions

After we moved back home from Texas, life felt like it was shifting in ways I didn’t fully understand at the time. We were planting ourselves again—finding our footing, rebuilding routines, and learning what “home” really meant. It was during that season that I began a few simple Christmas traditions with my girls. At the time, they felt small. Looking back now, I can see how God was using them to build something much bigger.

The first tradition was an ornament each year—one that represented who they were in that season of life. A favorite hobby, an inside joke, a milestone year. The plan was always that one day, when they had homes and families of their own, those ornaments would go with them. A reminder that they were loved, seen, and cherished long before they ever hung a tree of their own.

Scripture tells us to “remember the deeds of the Lord” (Psalm 77:11). Those ornaments became a visual reminder of God’s faithfulness through the years—through moves, changes, growth, and grace.

The second tradition was opening one gift from Santa on Christmas Eve: Christmas “jammies”, or pajamas. Nothing extravagant. Just something new and cozy to sleep in and to wear on Christmas morning while we gathered around the tree. It was about creating a sense of anticipation and togetherness—a quiet, holy pause before the celebration.

Christmas Eve always reminds me of waiting. Waiting for morning. Waiting for light. Waiting for the fulfillment of a promise. Much like the world waited for a Savior, we rested in the stillness, knowing joy was coming.

The third tradition was socks in the stocking. Honestly, we thought it was funny—and it stuck. But even that small, practical gift carries meaning now. God cares about the everyday needs just as much as the big moments. Scripture reminds us that He provides everything we need (Matthew 6:32), sometimes in the simplest ways.

Today, those traditions are being passed down to my granddaughter.

I bought her her very first Christmas ornament—tiny and perfect, marking the beginning of her story. Santa delivered her Christmas jammies early this year. And of course, I found the tiniest socks to place in her very first Christmas stocking.

As I held those little items in my hands, I was reminded that legacy isn’t built in grand gestures. It’s built in consistency. In showing up. In creating spaces where love, faith, and joy are felt year after year.

Deuteronomy 6:6–7 tells us to impress God’s commands on our children—to talk about them at home, along the way, in the coming and the going. Sometimes, that looks like Bible study and prayer. And sometimes, it looks like ornaments, pajamas, and socks—quiet traditions that whisper, This is who we are. This is where we belong. This is how God has loved us.

Some traditions are worth carrying forward—not because they’re perfect, but because they point to a faithful God who never changes, from generation to generation.

Photo by Anshu A on Unsplash