God With Us
There’s something about the way cancer strips your life down to the studs that makes it nearly impossible to get caught up in things that don’t matter.
Chaos is a choice and one I said no to awhile back.
It’s easy to be blinded by the twinkle lights of the season; the sequins and champagne. But as we consider just one more gift, just one more R.S.V.P., we miss the most important invitation of all.
That first Christmas was cramped. There were no place settings or itineraries. No notice. Not even a floor. There was nothing shiny about it. Nothing signaling an arrival of any kind.
And yet, that baby’s first cry ushered in a movement that would interrupt generations of weak and wounded hearts.
The God of the universe, who had access to anything and everything, traded it all for you. To live as one of you.
To be near you.
To see what you see and hurt like you hurt and one day grow up to stand in your place.
Consider the chaos carefully this season. Take a step back, or better yet, take a seat.
Take a breath and shut out the noise, the busyness, the distractions.
Emmanuel means ‘God with us.’
There’s nothing else you need.