Now all of this took place so that what the Lord had spoken through the prophet would be fulfilled: Look! A virgin will become pregnant and give birth to a son, and they will call him, Emmanuel. (Emmanuel means "God with us.") (Matthew 1:22-23 CEB) Emmanuel. God with us. Those three words are easy to overlook in the Christmas story. But if we slow down long enough to really think about what they mean, they should take our breath away. God. With. Us. Not God far away, watching from a distance. Not God high in heaven, untouchable and unreachable. Not God judging us from his throne, keeping track of all the ways we've failed. God with us. Right here. In our mess. In our pain. In our loneliness. In our brokenness. That's what Joseph needed to hear in that moment. He was alone. He was heartbroken. He was confused. And God sent him a message: "I am with you. You are not alone." And that's the message we need to hear, too, because we all have moments when we feel completely alone. But Emmanuel means that's not true. We're never alone. God is with us. And God isn’t with us in some vague, theoretical way. God is with us in the most intimate, personal way possible. God became one of us so that he could be with us. Think about what that means. God wanted to know what it's like to be you. So he became human. He experienced hunger and exhaustion. He felt joy and sorrow. He knew what it was like to be misunderstood and rejected. He understood what it means to suffer and grieve and lose people you love. God didn't just look at humanity from a distance and say, "Oh, that looks hard." God came down and lived it. He walked in our shoes. He experienced what we experience. He knows what we're going through because he's been through it too. That's Emmanuel. That's God with us. And here's what makes this even more incredible: Jesus didn't just come to earth for a little while and then leave. Yes, he ascended to heaven after his resurrection. But before he left, he promised his disciples, "I am with you always, to the very end of the age." That promise isn't just for the first disciples. It's for us too. Emmanuel isn't just a name we use at Christmas. It's a reality we can cling to every single day. God is with us. Right now. In this moment. In whatever we're facing. If you're feeling alone this Christmas, if you're struggling with loneliness or grief or heartbreak, I want you to hold onto this truth: God is with you. Not just aware of you. Not just watching you. With you. Present. Close. Right there beside you in your pain. You may not feel it. You may not see any evidence of it. But it's true. Emmanuel. God with us. God with you. Closing Prayer: Emmanuel, God with us, thank you for not staying far away. Thank you for coming down to be with us in our mess. Help us to feel your presence, especially in those moments when we feel most alone. Remind us that you're right here, right now, walking through this with us. We're not alone. You are with us. Amen.

As he was thinking about this, an angel from the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, "Joseph son of David, don't be afraid to take Mary as your wife, because the child she carries was conceived by the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you will call him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins." (Matthew 1:20-21 CEB) Joseph was at the lowest point of his life. His engagement was over. His future was gone. His heart was broken. And he'd made the decision to walk away quietly and try to salvage what was left of his shattered dreams. And then...God showed up in a dream. An angel appeared to Joseph and told him everything. Mary hadn't been unfaithful. The child she was carrying was from the Holy Spirit. This baby was going to save people from their sins. And Joseph shouldn't be afraid to take Mary as his wife. In one moment, everything changed. The story Joseph thought he knew was completely wrong. The future he thought was over was actually just beginning. The loneliness he thought he'd have to live with was about to be replaced by a family he never could have imagined. But here's what I want us to notice: God waited until Joseph was at his lowest point before he showed up. But why? Why didn't God send the angel before Joseph found out Mary was pregnant? Why didn't God explain everything before Joseph's heart was broken? Why did God wait until Joseph had decided to walk away before he intervened? We don't know for sure. But I think there's something important here about timing. Sometimes God doesn't show up when we want him to. Sometimes he waits. Sometimes he lets us walk through the valley before he speaks. Sometimes he allows us to reach the end of ourselves before he steps in. And that can be frustrating. It can make us feel like God doesn't care or isn't paying attention. We cry out for help, and the heavens seem silent. We beg for answers, and we hear nothing. We feel completely alone, and God seems nowhere to be found. But what Joseph's story teaches us is that God's silence doesn't mean God's absence. God was there the whole time. God knew what was happening. God saw Joseph's pain. And God had a plan all along. God just waited until the right moment to reveal it. I don't know why God sometimes works that way. I don't know why he doesn't always answer our prayers the moment we pray them. I don't know why he lets us walk through valleys when he could simply lift us over them. But I do know this: when God finally does show up, when he finally does speak, when he finally does reveal what he's been doing all along...it's always worth the wait. Always. Joseph spent days, maybe weeks, in agony. But when God finally spoke, everything made sense. The pain didn't disappear, but it had purpose. The confusion didn't vanish, but it had meaning. The loneliness didn't end immediately, but it was bearable because Joseph finally understood that God was with him. If you're waiting for God to show up right now, if you're in that valley wondering where he is and why he hasn't answered yet, I want you to hold on. Keep trusting. Keep believing. Because God sees you. God knows what you're going through. And at just the right moment, God will speak. Closing Prayer: God, sometimes your silence is deafening. Sometimes we cry out for help and hear nothing in return. But help us to remember that your silence doesn't mean your absence. You're here. You see us. You know what we need. Give us the patience to wait for your timing and the faith to trust that you'll show up at just the right moment. Amen.

Joseph her husband was a righteous man. Because he didn't want to humiliate her, he decided to call off their engagement quietly. (Matthew 1:19 CEB) Let's talk about what Joseph did when he found out Mary was pregnant. He could have made a scene. According to the law, he could have had Mary put on trial. In the most extreme interpretation of the law, she could have been executed for adultery. At the very least, Joseph could have publicly humiliated her, made sure everyone in town knew what she'd done, and walked away with his reputation intact. But he didn't do that. Instead, Matthew tells us that Joseph was a righteous man, and because of that, he decided to call off the engagement quietly. He was going to let Mary go without dragging her name through the mud. He was going to protect her reputation even though she'd broken his heart. That's remarkable. That's the kind of character we should all aspire to. Even in his pain, even in his betrayal, Joseph did the right thing. But doing the right thing cost Joseph everything. You see, when you called off an engagement in ancient Israel, the man still had to pay the bridal price he'd agreed to pay to the woman's father. So even though Mary was the one who (as far as Joseph knew) had done something wrong, Joseph was going to have to pay the price. And Joseph wasn't a wealthy man. He was a carpenter. Which means that after he paid the bridal price, he probably wouldn't have enough money to pay another one. So he probably wouldn't be able to get married, and all his dreams of having a wife and a family were over. Joseph was about to sacrifice his entire future because he wanted to do the right thing. He was going to walk away from everything he'd hoped for because he didn't want to hurt Mary any more than she'd already been hurt. That's what righteousness sometimes costs us. That's what doing the right thing sometimes requires. It's lonely. It's painful. It's expensive. We see the same thing happen to people all the time. The person who tells the truth, even though it costs them their job. The person who walks away from a relationship that's unhealthy, even though it means being alone. The person who stands up for what's right, even though it means losing friends. The person who maintains their integrity, even though it means missing out on opportunities. Doing the right thing isn't always rewarded. Sometimes it's punished. Sometimes it costs us everything. Sometimes it leaves us feeling completely alone. But here's what Joseph's story teaches us: God sees. God knows. And God doesn't abandon people who do the right thing, even when it costs them everything. Joseph was about to give up his entire future to protect Mary. And God was about to give Joseph something even better than the future he'd imagined. But Joseph didn't know that yet. In that moment, all Joseph knew was that he was doing the right thing, even though it was going to leave him alone. If that's where you are right now – if you've done the right thing and it's cost you more than you thought it would, if you feel alone because you chose integrity over comfort – I want you to know that God sees you. Your righteousness matters. Your character matters. And even though you can't see it yet, God is going to honor your faithfulness. Closing Prayer: God, sometimes doing the right thing costs us more than we want to pay. Sometimes it leaves us feeling alone and wondering if anyone even notices or cares. But you see. You know. Help us to trust that our integrity matters to you, even when it seems to cost us everything. Give us the strength to keep doing what's right, even when it's hard. Amen.

We think of Christmas as a time for family gatherings, attending parties, and just being with the people we love. So we can easily feel let down at Christmas when we don't fit in with our family, or get invited to any parties, or have people we feel close to.   But even though Christmas is a time when we can feel alone, Jesus' birth reminds us that God is always with us.

This is how the birth of Jesus Christ took place. When Mary his mother was engaged to Joseph, before they were married, she became pregnant by the Holy Spirit. Joseph her husband was a righteous man. Because he didn't want to humiliate her, he decided to call off their engagement quietly. (Matthew 1:18-19 CEB) Can you imagine what Joseph must have felt in that moment? One day, everything was perfect. He was engaged to Mary. They were probably spending their evenings together, dreaming about their future, planning their wedding, imagining what their life would be like. Joseph must have felt like the luckiest man alive. And then...three words changed everything: "She became pregnant." We don't know exactly how Joseph found out. Maybe Mary told him herself, trying to explain about the angel and the Holy Spirit. Maybe he heard it from someone else, whispered gossip making its way through their small town. However it happened, the result was the same: Joseph's whole world came crashing down. All of his hopes. All of his dreams. All of his joy. Gone. In an instant. He must have felt so many things in that moment. Confusion, because how could this have happened? Anger, because he'd been betrayed by the person he trusted most. Hurt, because the woman he loved had broken his heart. But more than anything else, he must have felt completely alone. And we've all been there, haven't we? Maybe not in exactly the same situation as Joseph, but we've all had moments when everything fell apart. When the life we thought we were building suddenly crumbled. When the person we trusted betrayed us. When the future we'd been counting on disappeared. And those moments are hard enough on any regular day. But at Christmas? They're excruciating. Because Christmas is supposed to be a time of joy and celebration. It's supposed to be a time when families gather and love is in the air and everything feels magical. So when our lives are falling apart at Christmas, it makes the loneliness hurt even more. Everyone else seems to be happy, and we're barely holding it together. Everyone else seems to have the perfect Christmas, and we're just trying to make it through the day. Everyone else seems to be surrounded by people who love them, and we feel completely alone. Joseph felt that way too. But even though Joseph felt that way, God didn't abandon him in that moment. God was right there, even when Joseph couldn't see it. God was already at work, doing something bigger than Joseph could have imagined. We'll talk more about that in the coming days. But for now, if you're in a place where everything feels like it's falling apart, if you're barely holding it together this Christmas season, I want you to know something: you're not alone. God sees you. God knows what you're going through. And even though you can't see it yet, God is at work in your situation. Closing Prayer: God, sometimes life falls apart, and we feel completely alone. We feel like nobody understands what we're going through. But you see us. You know our pain. Be with us in this dark moment. Help us to trust that even when we can't see you, you're still there, still working, still caring for us. Amen.

16 God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him won’t perish but will have eternal life. 17 God didn’t send his Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through him. (John 3:16-17CEB) There it is. The heart of Christmas in two verses. God loved the world. Not just you. Not just me. Not just people who look like us or think like us or believe like us. The world. All of us. Every single person. And because God loved the world that much, he gave his son. Not to condemn us. Not to make us feel guilty. Not to point out all the ways we've failed. But to save us. To offer us eternal life. To restore our relationship with him. That's what Herod missed. When the wise men told him that the Messiah had been born, all Herod could think about was how that news affected him. He couldn't see past his own crown, his own throne, his own power. So he missed the good news that God had finally sent the savior that everyone had been waiting for. And we miss it too when we make Christmas all about ourselves. When all we can think about is what we want, what we're doing, how our Christmas is going, we miss the point. We miss the incredible truth that God loved the entire world enough to send his son for all of us. But when we step back and really let that truth sink in, everything changes. When we remember that God loves every person we encounter just as much as he loves us, it opens our eyes. We start noticing people we used to walk past. We start caring about struggles that used to feel like someone else's problem. We start looking for ways to share the good news that transformed our lives. That's what Christmas is supposed to do. It's supposed to change us. Not just make us feel warm and fuzzy for a few weeks in December, but actually transform how we see the world and how we live in it. When we make Christmas all about us – about our gifts, our traditions, our celebrations – we end up feeling let down. Because we were made for something bigger than just serving ourselves. We were made to be part of what God is doing in this world. We were made to love others the way God loves us. So as we move through these final days before Christmas, let's remember what it's really about. Let's remember that God loves the world. Let's remember that Jesus came for all of us, not just for you or me. Let's look beyond ourselves to see the people around us who need to know God's love. And let's find some way to share that good news with them. Because that's the only thing that will keep us from feeling let down this Christmas. Not getting everything we want. Not having the perfect celebration. But knowing that we've been part of sharing Christ's love with a world that desperately needs it. Closing Prayer:   Father, thank you for loving the world so much that you sent your son. Thank you for reminding us that Christmas isn't about us – it's about what you've done for all of us. Open our eyes to see the people around us. Open our hearts to love them the way you love them. And use us to share the good news of Christmas with everyone we meet. Amen.

37 “Then those who are righteous will reply to him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you a drink? 38 When did we see you as a stranger and welcome you, or naked and give you clothes to wear? 39 When did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ 40 “Then the king will reply to them, ‘I assure you that when you have done it for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you have done it for me.’”(Matthew 25:31-40 CEB) In Matthew 25, Jesus tells a story about the final judgment. The King separates people like a shepherd separates sheep from goats. To those on his right, he says, "Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me."  The people are confused. "When did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison?" they ask. And the King replies, "Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." This passage challenges us in a lot of ways. But one of the things I find most striking is how ordinary the actions Jesus mentions are. He's not talking about grand gestures or dramatic sacrifices. He's talking about giving someone food when they're hungry. Giving someone something to drink when they're thirsty. Welcoming a stranger. Providing clothes. Visiting the sick. Visiting people in prison. These are simple things. Things any of us could do. But Jesus says that when we do these ordinary things for people who need them, we're actually doing them for him. During the Christmas season, we often feel pressure to do something big. To make some grand gesture that will really make a difference. To find the perfect gift or throw the perfect party or create the perfect Christmas memory. And when we can't do that, we feel like we're failing at Christmas. But that's not what Jesus is saying here. Jesus is saying that the small things matter. That the ordinary acts of kindness we show to people around us are actually acts of worship. That when we smile at the frazzled cashier or hold the door for someone carrying packages or let someone merge into traffic or bring a meal to a sick neighbor, we're serving Jesus himself. Think about what that means. You don't have to save the world to make Christmas meaningful. You don't have to do something extraordinary to share the love of Christ. You just have to notice the people around you and do something – anything – to help. Maybe it's as simple as smiling while you're waiting in a checkout line. Maybe it's cutting the seasonal cashier a little slack when they take longer to ring up your purchases. Maybe it's holding a door open for someone whose arms are full of packages. Maybe it's inviting a neighbor who's spending Christmas alone to join your family for dinner. Maybe it's using some of the money you would've spent on decorations to help someone who's struggling. These aren't grand gestures. They're simple acts of kindness. But Jesus says they matter. He says that when we do these small things for others, we're doing them for him. So if you want to make this Christmas meaningful, if you want to avoid feeling let down when it's all over, don't focus on doing something big. Focus on doing something. Notice the people around you. See their needs. And then do what you can to help – even if it seems small or insignificant. Because to Jesus, nothing we do in love is ever insignificant. Closing Prayer: Jesus, help us to see that we don't have to do something extraordinary to serve you. Help us to notice the ordinary needs of the people around us. Give us willing hearts to help in whatever small ways we can. Remind us that when we serve others, we're serving you. Amen.

30 Jesus replied, “A man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho. He encountered thieves, who stripped him naked, beat him up, and left him near death. 31 Now it just so happened that a priest was also going down the same road. When he saw the injured man, he crossed over to the other side of the road and went on his way. 32 Likewise, a Levite came by that spot, saw the injured man, and crossed over to the other side of the road and went on his way.(Luke 10:30-32 CEB) The parable of the Good Samaritan is one of Jesus' most famous stories. A man is beaten, robbed, and left for dead on the side of the road. A priest walks by and sees him but crosses to the other side of the road. A Levite does the same thing. But a Samaritan – someone who would have been despised by Jesus' audience – stops and helps. We usually focus on what the Samaritan did. He bandaged the man's wounds, took him to an inn, paid for his care. He went above and beyond to help someone in desperate need. And that's important. But I want us to notice something else about this story. Both the priest and the Levite saw the injured man. They didn't miss him. They didn't walk by without noticing. They saw him lying there on the side of the road...and they chose to keep walking. Why? We're not told. Maybe they were busy. Maybe they had important religious duties to attend to. Maybe they were afraid. Maybe they figured someone else would help. Maybe they just didn't want to get involved. Whatever their reasons, they chose to ignore someone who desperately needed help. And we do the same thing. Not necessarily with people who've been beaten and left on the side of the road, but with people all around us who are struggling. We see them. We notice them. But we keep walking. We see the single mom in line at the grocery store counting her money, hoping she has enough to pay for the food her kids need. We see the elderly neighbor who hasn't had a visitor in weeks. We see the coworker who's clearly overwhelmed and stressed. We see the family at church who's wearing the same clothes they wore last week because they can't afford anything new. We see them. But we're so focused on our own Christmas shopping, our own holiday stress, our own problems and plans that we just keep walking. We cross to the other side of the road. We tell ourselves that someone else will help, or that they probably don't really need anything, or that we're too busy to get involved right now. And when Christmas is over and we're cleaning up the wrapping paper and taking down the decorations, we wonder why we feel so empty. We wonder why, even though we got everything we wanted, we still feel let down. Maybe it's because Christmas was never meant to be just about us. Maybe it's because the good news of Christmas – that God loved the world so much that he sent his son – is supposed to change how we see other people. When we really understand that God loves everyone, not just us, it should open our eyes to the people around us. It should make us stop and notice. It should move us to do something. The Samaritan in Jesus' parable wasn't a hero. He was just someone who saw a person in need and decided to help. That's it. He didn't do anything extraordinary. He just refused to cross to the other side of the road. That's what Christmas calls us to do. To see the people around us. To really see them. And then to do something about it. Closing Prayer: Jesus, forgive us for all the times we've crossed to the other side of the road. Open our eyes to see the people around us who need help. Give us compassionate hearts that are moved to action. Help us to love others the way you love us – not because they deserve it or because it's convenient, but simply because they need it. Amen.

16 Then he told them a parable: “A certain rich man’s land produced a bountiful crop. 17 He said to himself, What will I do? I have no place to store my harvest! 18 Then he thought, Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll tear down my barns and build bigger ones. That’s where I’ll store all my grain and goods. 19 I’ll say to myself, You have stored up plenty of goods, enough for several years. Take it easy! Eat, drink, and enjoy yourself. 20 But God said to him, ‘Fool, tonight you will die. Now who will get the things you have prepared for yourself?’ 21 This is the way it will be for those who hoard things for themselves and aren’t rich toward God.” (Luke 12:16-21 CEB) In this parable, Jesus tells us about a rich man whose crops produced an abundant harvest. The man looks at his overflowing barns and thinks, "What should I do? I don't have room for all this!" So he decides to tear down his barns and build bigger ones. Then he'll be able to relax, eat, drink, and be merry because he has everything he needs stored up for years to come. But God calls him a fool and tells him he will die tonight. Then God asks, "Now who will get the things you have prepared for yourself?" It's a sobering story. But what makes it particularly relevant to us during the Christmas season is this: the rich man in this parable got exactly what he wanted. He wasn't struggling. He wasn't suffering. He had more than enough. His problem wasn't that his life was falling apart. His problem was that his life was completely focused on himself. We do the same thing at Christmas. We make our Christmas lists. We plan our celebrations. We dream about the perfect holiday. And when we get what we want, when everything goes according to plan, we think we should be satisfied. We think we should be happy. But we're not. Even when we get everything we asked for, there's still something missing. We still feel empty inside. We still feel let down. That's because getting what we want isn't the same as getting what we need. And what we need isn't more stuff or better decorations or perfect family gatherings. What we need is to know that our lives matter. That we're not just taking up space on this planet. That there's a purpose to our existence that goes beyond accumulating things and checking items off our wish lists. The rich man in Jesus' parable missed that. He thought his life was all about him. So he never stopped to think about what God wanted from him. He never considered how he could use his abundant harvest to bless others. He just wanted to hoard it all for himself. And God called him a fool. Not because there's anything wrong with being successful or having nice things. God called him a fool because he was so focused on himself that he forgot why he was put on this earth in the first place. We're not here just to get what we want. We're here to love God and love others. We're here to be part of what God is doing in this world. We're here to share the good news that God loves everyone so much that he sent his son for us all. When we forget that, when we make Christmas – or any other part of our lives – all about ourselves, we end up like that rich fool. We get everything we thought we wanted, but we're still not satisfied. Because we were made for something more than just serving ourselves. Closing Prayer: Father, forgive us for making our lives all about ourselves. Help us to see that true satisfaction doesn't come from getting what we want, but from being part of what you're doing in this world. Use us to bless others. Use us to share your love. Use us for your purposes, not just our own. Amen.

We don't mean to be selfish at Christmas, but somehow the holidays become more about what we want to get than what we can give. So our Christmas lists grow longer, our expectations get higher, and we make this season revolve around us.   And that might just be part of why we feel let down at Christmas. Because Christmas isn't about us...it's about Jesus.

After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in the territory of Judea during the rule of King Herod, magi came from the east to Jerusalem. 2 They asked, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We’ve seen his star in the east, and we’ve come to honor him.” 3 When King Herod heard this, he was troubled, and everyone in Jerusalem was troubled with him. (Matthew 2:1-3 CEB) King Herod is easy to hate. When we read the Christmas story and see how he responded to the news that the Messiah had been born, we want to distance ourselves from him as much as possible. After all, we would never order the execution of innocent children. We would never let our insecurity and paranoia lead us to commit such atrocities. But before we pat ourselves on the back for being better than Herod, we need to ask ourselves an uncomfortable question: What would we have done if we were in Herod's position? Here's what we often miss about Herod: he wasn't just some power-hungry tyrant. He was Jewish. He took his faith seriously enough to spend decades rebuilding the Temple in Jerusalem. He knew the prophecies about the Messiah. He'd been waiting for the Messiah just like every other Jewish person of his generation. So when the wise men came to him and said, "We've seen the star of the newborn king of the Jews," Herod should’ve been ecstatic. But Herod wasn't excited. He was threatened. Because when he heard "king of the Jews," all he could think about was what that meant for him. He already was the king of the Jews. So if there was a new king, that meant Herod's days were numbered. In that moment, Herod had a choice. He could celebrate that God had finally sent the Messiah to save his people, or he could protect his own position and power. He chose himself. And that choice led to one of the most horrific acts in the entire New Testament. Now, we need to be clear here: we're not Herod. We're not going to order the execution of children. But we do make the same fundamental mistake he made. We hear the good news of Christmas, and our first thought is often, "What does this mean for me?" We think about what we want for Christmas. We think about our holiday traditions. We think about our Christmas celebrations. We make Christmas about us instead of about Jesus. And when Christmas doesn't go the way we want it to, when we don't get what we hoped for, when our expectations aren't met, we feel let down. That's the Herod in all of us. Not the murderous tyrant, but the person who makes everything about ourselves. The person who hears good news and immediately thinks, "But what about me?" The cure for this isn't to beat ourselves up with guilt. The cure is to remember what Christmas is actually about. Christmas is about God loving the world so much that he sent his son. Not just for you. For everyone. For the people you love and the people you struggle with. For the people like you and the people completely different from you. For all of us. When we remember that, when we really let that truth sink in, it changes how we approach Christmas. We stop making it about ourselves and start seeing it as an opportunity to share God's love with others. Closing Prayer: God, forgive us for the times we've made Christmas about ourselves instead of about you. Help us to see beyond our own wants and needs to the people around us who need to know your love. Give us hearts that celebrate your coming not just for what it means for us, but for what it means for all the world. Amen.

Scripture Focus: Psalm 46:10 "Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." (Psalm 46:10, NIV) Be still. Those are two simple words that feel almost impossible during the Christmas season. How can we be still when there's so much to do?  But maybe that's exactly why we need to hear these words right now. Because in the middle of all our Christmas chaos, God is inviting us to be still and to know that he is God. There's something we lose when we're constantly busy. We lose the ability to wonder. We lose the ability to see the miraculous in the ordinary. We lose the ability to recognize the sacred moments happening all around us. Think about children at Christmas. They still have wonder. They can stare at Christmas lights for what feels like forever, mesmerized by the colors and patterns. They can listen to the Christmas story like it's the first time they've ever heard it, even if they've heard it a hundred times before. They can be completely captivated by the idea that God became a baby and was born in a stable. But we've lost that. We've heard the story so many times that it doesn't move us anymore. We've seen so many Christmas lights that we barely notice them. We rush past the nativity scenes without giving them a second glance. Because we're too busy. And busyness is the enemy of wonder.  But what if we slowed down enough to let the wonder back in? What if we actually stopped long enough to think about what Christmas means? God – the creator of the universe, the one who spoke the stars into existence – became a baby. He entered our world. He became one of us. Not because he had to, but because he loves us. That's...wonderful, literally. It’s full of wonder. But we miss it when we're too busy to pay attention. Psalm 46:10 tells us to "be still and know that I am God." Not be busy and know that I am God. Not accomplish a million things and know that I am God. Be still. Stop. Rest. Be quiet. And in that stillness, know who God is. Because here's the truth...we can't really know God when we're constantly in motion. We can't experience his presence when we're always thinking about the next thing on our to-do list. We can't hear his voice when our minds are cluttered with a thousand different concerns. Knowing God requires us to be still. So we have to make room for God. So as we close out this first week of Advent, I want to challenge you to create some space for stillness. Not because you've finished everything on your to-do list – you probably haven't, and you probably won't. But because knowing God is more important than any task you have waiting for you. Maybe it's fifteen minutes in the morning before everyone else wakes up. Maybe it's a few minutes in your car before you walk into your house after work. Maybe it's late at night after everyone else has gone to bed. But find some time, even just a little time, to be still. And in that stillness, let yourself wonder again. Wonder at the mystery of the incarnation. Wonder at the love of God that would move him to become one of us. Wonder at the fact that the God of the universe knows your name and cares about every detail of your life. Because that's what Christmas is really about. Not the presents or the parties or the perfect decorations. It's about a God who loves us so much that he entered our world. And that's worth slowing down for. That's worth being still for. That's worth making room for. Reflection Questions: When was the last time you felt a sense of wonder about God or about Christmas? What keeps you from being still? What would need to change to create space for stillness? How might your Christmas season be different if you prioritized time to be still with God? Prayer:  Father, we've forgotten how to be still. We've forgotten how to wonder. Forgive us for being so busy that we miss the miracle of your love. This week, help us to create space for stillness. Help us to slow down enough to really see you, to really know you. Restore our sense of wonder at the incredible truth that you became one of us. Help us to know that you are God, and that nothing on our to-do list is more important than spending time with you. Fill our stillness with your presence. Amen.