The gospel is the good news that God loves us, not merely when we look our best, but our worst.

God didn’t only gift Zechariah with silence; he gifted him with anticipation…His words, moving from doubt to tentative hope, were given inwardly to God alone, who knew his heart better than he did.

There is personal comfort in Christmas. It’s good, but it ought not to end with us. The comfort of Christ is meant to move through his comforted people to a hurting world.

This Christmas season, we need nothing more than to see the meaning of the manger. It offers a sure and certain knowledge that he knows, that he cares, that he saves, and that he will be with us through to the very end, right on into eternity.

Each year, this day marks our Savior’s birth as a human child revered by kings and shepherds. This day ushers divine imagination into our reality.

Being honest, in light of all this, sometimes I struggle to believe that God sees and cares. But then Christmas gives me hope that he does see and care; and that he loves me after all.

Through tinsel-coated commercials and gripping seasonal stories, the world’s message is clear: the true magic of Christmas is held by children. But is it true?

At its core Advent is more than just remembering the coming of God into our existence, Advent is about the actual presence of God in our existence. It’s the one season that reminds us that God is with us.

Christ entered a dark world. Not the inner-city darkness that fills a room with faint beams of streetlights and occasional headlights flashing as vehicles pass. He entered darkness that you can feel.

Sometimes when we choose servitude under the submission of God, we will have to be emptied out for his sake in ways we wouldn’t dream of. But it is always a blessing to be emptied of ourselves and filled up with Christ.

The book of Ruth may not be the first place you’d look for a Christmas story. Yet, Naomi’s story of loss, pain, and restoration offers hope to our weary hearts this season—all through the birth of a baby boy.

As a reaction to traditions that elevate Mary too highly, many Protestants don’t think enough about how wonderful Mary was. When my premature newborn struggled to live, I thought about Mary often. I still do.