Emmanuel

The tiny arms in the manger,

frail and tender,

would one day stretch wide upon a cross,

battling death itself—and triumphing.

The hands that wrapped around Mary’s finger,

so small, so innocent,

would one day bear the weight of nails—

nails meant for us, not Him.

The soft cry of a newborn,

sweet and fragile,

would one day echo in anguish,

forsaken, as He carried the sins of the world.

This is Emmanuel.

This is the cost of God with us.

It was not cheap.

It was not easy.

It cost Him everything.

God with us in our sorrow,

God with us in our pain.

God for us—and as us—on Calvary’s hill.

Yes, Emmanuel was costly.

But He did not flinch.

He did not hesitate.

He could have left us alone,

left us drowning in our sin.

But He came.

He left heaven’s splendor,

the adoration of angels,

to walk among the broken,

to be Emmanuel.

And even now,

He does not hesitate to draw near—

no matter our grief,

no matter our shame,

no matter our darkness.

He is God with us.

God for us.

God who came to save us.

O come, O come, Emmanuel.

And ransom captive hearts once more.

May you have a gentle Christmas, in his precious presence today🤍