Today’s post isn’t anything too fancy, just some pictures I took with my iPhone and some quick thoughts.
Some of you might know that I listen to Christmas music throughout the year.
And it’s not necessarily because I think we need Christmas cheer year round (although tbh look around; we definitely do), it’s just there’s so much quality music that gets relegated to the month after Thanksgiving and before New Year, and that’s kind of sad. I did a Christmas playlist post (here!) last year, and today I’m in major focus-mode at work, so the Christian Christmas one is on repeat. There’s something so soothing about it, and paired with the rainy gloom outside, it’s making me especially contemplative.
This one by Gungor is especially pretty:
Oh Light, God and man entwine, of earth and of divine, Holy night.
Oh Light, mending fractured earth, the soul now felt its worth, holy night.
Hallelujah, God is with us; Hallelujah, a Light has come.
Hallelujah, Holy God is with us; love is always born within.
Hallelujah, Light will chase and find us; Love is facing us again.
It borrows a phrase from O Holy Night, the one about the soul feeling it’s worth. Worth not comprised of performance or capabilities, of works or of records, but real worth. Worth because God is with us, chasing us, finding us, facing us.
Have you let your heart rest in grace recently?
Have you released yourself from the striving for status, from the mold you feel you’re supposed to fit, from expectations? Have you remembered that you are loved by Holy—Creator, Sovereign, Healer, Holder—God? Have you let go of the vision you have for your life, in favor of the truth that your strength isn’t in your performance, but in something much much more? Have you released your idea of perfection and clung to sweet Jesus instead?
At Christmas, we make a big deal out of Baby Jesus, humbling Himself to be born as a man, into our sinful world. At Easter, we reflect on the death and resurrection of the saving Christ, by whose stripes we are healed. But there’s 10 more months out of the year, friends, and Jesus lived 33 years between those two moments.
There were miracles, yes. Water became wine, eyes that saw nothing saw the face of God, feet that were lame danced for joy, children that slept were given again to their parents, alive again. Little meals fed thousands, and the Word of God reached just as many, and more. But more than Christ’s ministry, more than His miracles, He walked this earth with a human heart that beat just like yours and mine.
And that mightn’t sound like much, but what if I told you that there wasn’t a burden you bear that Christ didn’t carry? There’s not an ache He hasn’t felt, a tear He hasn’t cried, a wound He hasn’t endured. And not just as an empathetic figure, but as God who became man, to carry you.
That is your worth.
A child of God, free from expectations placed on her by the world, and called to a life that’s more than the job she holds, the car she drives, the sweater she wears. Beloved, understood, treasured. Redeemed, cherished, held. Worthy.