Luke 2:11
"Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you. He is the Messiah, the Lord."
It is Christmas morning. The candles have been lit one by one for twenty-five days. We have walked from the garden to the manger. From the first promise to its fulfillment. From the whisper in the dark to the song in the sky. And now we are here. At the center. At the moment that splits history in two. Before this, everything was anticipation. After this, everything is different.
He is here. Not coming. Not almost here. Here. The God who spoke the universe into existence is breathing in a manger. The One who holds the stars is being held by a teenage girl. The One who will one day judge the world is wrapped in cloth and lying in a feeding trough. The infinite has become intimate. The eternal has become present. The distant has become near. Emmanuel. God with us. Not God above us. Not God somewhere out there. God with us.
This is the truth that the enemy cannot stand. Not that God exists. Not that God is powerful. That God is with us. That He entered our mess and did not flinch. That He took on flesh and did not shrink from it. That He lived among us, wept with us, bled for us, died for us, and rose for us. The manger is the first step on a road that leads to a cross and then to an empty tomb. The baby is the beginning of the rescue. And the rescue is complete. It was finished before you were born. It will outlast your last breath. You are held by a God who would not stay away.
I want to end this series not with a to-do list but with a declaration. He is here. Whatever you are carrying today, He is here. Whatever you are facing tomorrow, He is here. Whatever you have lost and whatever you have found, He is here. The Christmas story is not a story about something that happened a long time ago. It is a story about something that is happening right now. The same Jesus who was born in Bethlehem is alive and present and active in your life today. He has not left. He has not forgotten. He has not changed.
Twenty-five days of Advent. Twenty-five candles. Twenty-five reminders that the God who made a promise in a garden kept it in a manger. He is faithful. He is patient. He is fierce in His love. He is gentle in His approach. He is the Word who became flesh. The King who became a servant. The Light who entered the darkness and refused to be overcome. He is here. And because He is here, nothing is hopeless. Nothing is beyond repair. Nothing is too far gone.
"He is the Messiah, the Lord."
So go live like He is here. Because He is. Go love like you have been loved. Go forgive like you have been forgiven. Go hope like the promise has been kept. Because it has. The manger is empty now. The tomb is empty now. And your life is full because He is in it. Merry Christmas. He is here. He has always been here. And He will never leave.
With the final candle burning brightest of all and my heart full to the point of breaking, I am standing at the manger and saying what the angels said, what the shepherds said, what the whole of heaven has been saying since the first star broke through the dark. He is here. With every breath I have left, I will tell you. He is here. With love that has no end and a hope that has been proven true, Claire