Sojourn East Advent Devotional 2025

Preface

MANDY BAILEY

The holiday hustle and bustle is just beginning, the trees are bare and ready for winter, and we are racing toward the finish line of 2025. With all that we each have going on in our lives in December, you may ask: why an Advent devotional? What is the big deal?

I know that for me personally, the Advent season is one of joy and laughter, Christmas parties with friends and coworkers and the worship team, lots of meaningful traditions and silly ones, and, this year, my son’s first birthday. While I know that the “reason for the season” is Jesus, and I try to hold on to that sacred focus between Sundays, December often whisks me away. Almost every year, I purchase an Advent devotional with high hopes of reading it daily, focusing my heart on the Lord instead of my many Christmas season traditions, and almost every year, I barely make it past week 1.

Why is that? Well, I can blame it on the busyness of December and my own lack of discipline, but I also considered that maybe the devotionals I’m buying just aren’t really striking a chord with me. I have such a heart for what we do here at Sojourn East and think that our community has something very special to offer in the way that we view spiritual maturity, the grey areas of loss and love and grief and joy all mixed up together, and of course, the fullness of life that we can each find in Jesus. And I had an idea–what if we made an Advent devotional specifically for our people?

This year, I’ve worked with 25 talented writers and thinkers from our congregation to write a devotional from their hearts to yours. This devotional is their reflections and experiences with hope, peace, joy, and love, expressed vulnerably and related back to the Word of God. During week one, we focus on hope; week two, peace; week three, joy; and week four, love. We’ll also be following along with our Advent sermon series on Ruth, where we see these themes displayed throughout Ruth and Naomi’s story.

This Advent, whether you read this devotional faithfully every day or tune in just a few times, may the Lord meet you in each moment. I’m praying even as I write this that the Holy Spirit will speak through the words of each of these faithful writers, and that God will speak to you and minister to your heart as you consider what it looks like to live as a person of hope, peace, joy, and love this season.

Hope in the Book of Ruth

This first week of Advent, we focus on the theme of hope. How do we find hope in a world that feels so dark and despairing? I think the story of Ruth gives us a beautiful answer, and that is this: We can hope because God is always working in the darkness, and he will provide.

The first thing I noticed when I read through Ruth is that the story takes place in Bethlehem. Already, from the beginning of the story, we as readers should feel a little bit of an anticipatory shiver down our spines: something important is going to happen in this story.

The book, however, opens rather bleakly: we learn that we are currently in the time of the judges, an era of chaos and moral decline. We then meet Naomi, whose husband Elimelek and sons Mahlon and Kilion have all just died. Naomi is distraught and clearly without hope. She says things such as “even if I thought there was still hope for me” (1:12), “the Lord’s hand has turned against me” (1:13), and “the Almighty has made my life very bitter” (1:20). However, our first glimpse of hope is when Naomi’s daughter-in-law Ruth refuses to abandon her and instead returns with Naomi to her hometown of Bethlehem.

As the story progresses, we see that the Lord’s hand is in the details: he provides work, food, and protection for Naomi and Ruth through the fields of Boaz. Eventually, the Lord even provides a husband for Ruth in Boaz and a grandson for Naomi: Obed. And who might Obed be? Well, he is the father of Jesse, the father of David–a direct ancestor of Jesus himself.

When hope seems grueling and redemption seems improbable, remember that God loves to work through unlikely people and circumstances. He knows and cares about our suffering, and he is actively working behind the scenes to bring to fruition his plans for our good and his glory. And in this story, we see that God not only provides Naomi and Ruth with what they need to survive; he blesses them abundantly, even writing them into the very story of salvation as Jesus’ ancestors.

As we reflect on hope for the next six days, consider what it would look like in your life to truly hope in the Lord and believe in his provision. This Advent season, we wait in confident expectation, trusting that God will fulfill his promises of redemption and restoration through Jesus Christ, whose birth we celebrate.

The women living there said, “Naomi has a son!” And they named him Obed. He was the father of Jesse, the father of David.

Ruth 4:17

DECEMBER 1

DAILY READING

MATTHEW WESTERHOLM

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned. For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this.

Isaiah 9:2, 6-7

DEVOTIONAL

What type of darkness are you in right now? What situations disorient you? I’ve recently spoken to people in dark work and health situations, disorienting financial and family situations. Do any of those connect with you? Perhaps you feel larger forms of darkness, like political chaos or cultural hopelessness. Either way, life on this fallen planet is confusing and dark.

God’s people have always known dark and disorienting times. These verses in Isaiah begin by describing the hopeless times when God’s people were in the middle of centuries of waiting. They felt the darkness of Roman oppression, the disorientation of confusion as God went silent for 400 years.

In the midst of dark disorientation, how can hopeless people be reoriented? I think there’s a very encouraging clue inside the word itself—the word “orient,” which means east. Disorientation pictures some sailors hopelessly lost in a dark and stormy night on the sea.

Picture us on a boat in the middle of the night as stormy waves toss us around. What’s our location? Which way should we turn? Where should we go? When we are disoriented, we do not know where to turn or where to go because we have lost our sense of direction. We are hopeless and disoriented.

Reorientation is a beautiful picture. Imagine the darkness of that lost night at sea when, all of a sudden, we see the sunrise. Now we know which direction is east! We have been reoriented. We now know our location and which direction to sail. Because we know where the east is, we know where to turn and we know where to go. We have been reoriented.

That is what Isaiah is talking about. Into the midst of the hopeless darkness of Israel, a light has dawned. The wisemen literally oriented themselves by an eastern light to find Christ (“We saw his star when it rose [or: “in the east”] and have come to worship him,” Matthew 2:2). They looked east and found the Light of the World. The birth of Christ has shone upon his people, so they knew where they were and which direction to turn.

Because Jesus came to our world, we have been reoriented and we have hope. As we approach Christmas, let’s look to Christ to know which direction to turn. We know where to go. Let’s go to him this Advent season.

PRAYER

Jesus Christ, you are the Light of the World. You dawned on that Bethlehem night to give us our bearings and fill us with hope. Help us turn toward you this Advent. Help us find our direction in you. Amen.

DECEMBER 2

DAILY READING

HILARY NOLTEMEYER

This is what the Lord says: “When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my good promise to bring you back to this place. For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.”

Jeremiah 29:10-14

DEVOTIONAL

The words of Jeremiah 29:10-14 are most often seen adorning the front of graduation cards: “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” I prayed these very words over my three children as I prepared to send each of them off to college, taking comfort in the anchor they provided. I wanted to believe them as I was prewashing sheets and towels and researching mattress toppers. It comforted me knowing that the Lord had gone before them as they stepped into this unknown chapter of their lives.

But what about me? After rooms were set up, tears were shed, and Kyle and I were back at an emptier home, I felt a hollowness that I had not experienced before. “Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity.” Before me was a new unknown, and as I

busied myself each day while trying to adjust to a new normal, the peace did not come. And yet there was an invitation that I was not taking. Yes, I was praying for my children. But I was not laying my whole heart before God. I was giving him the cleaned-up version, the one where I shared with him my fears for my kids, but not the quiet fears deep in me. I asked him to protect and guide them, keep them from temptation, and give them courage in each new situation. But I did not ask the same of him for my own broken heart. I also needed to be led away from the temptation of worry, courage for a new way of life for me, and guidance towards how to do that in a way that honors him. I was lacking hope because I was too afraid to seek the Lord with all of my heart. I was afraid that if I even cracked open that door, the sadness and fear would flood out and be unstoppable.

In that season, hope was the reminder that God was still with me and still present when my life was heading into a new season that, if I was honest with myself, I didn’t really want. That hope was only found when I was honest with God, seeking him with my whole heart–even the part I did not want to acknowledge.

PRAYER

Lord, it is often easier to ignore how we are feeling than it is to be honest before you. Remind us that when we pray and seek you with our whole hearts, then we will be found by you. Thank you for being our hope in every new season of our lives. Amen.

DECEMBER 3

DAILY READING

And again, Isaiah says, “The Root of Jesse will spring up, one who will arise to rule over the nations; in him the Gentiles will hope.”

DANIEL STEMBER

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Romans 15:12–13

DEVOTIONAL

They say that hope is a dangerous thing. It builds a vision that we cannot find, a mirage in the desert of despair, a wavering image with no water for our thirst. But perhaps what’s truly dangerous is a world without hope. The world offers no real solution. It says I can lower my expectations. I can build boundaries between myself and my longings. I can strangle desire. But my heart will not settle for this. In the depths of humanity we find a spring that bursts forth. Not a spring of joy and peace, but a spring of hope. The losses and lies of life will batter and bludgeon like an axe swung at the trunk, the leaves toppling into dust. But this stump will bear a sapling. His name is Jesus. He rises up, higher and higher, cast upon a tree. He is a man of sorrows, swallowed in shame and fear and death.

The tree rises higher and higher, visible for every man, woman, and child. We fall to our knees, burrowed in our strivings and loss. But he rises higher still, up from the dead, ascended with the Father. It is here that Jesus comes and sparks hope for us, catching its small ember in his palm. A gentle breath from his mouth, “Hope,” and we are alive. And we, waiting for the promise of hope that we cannot see, are filled with faith. We will not believe that death is the end, though it is all we can take hold of.

We find in the flickering of hope a small glow of joy, smoke rising from peace. The Holy Spirit has come to dwell within us–unquenchable love. Let me be loved by my God, chosen and redeemed. Let this hope burn bright for us. Let us hope in him.

PRAYER

Jesus, please come and meet me here. I feel the weight of despair, the endless longing for light and lightness. I grow weary of the darkness closing in. Rise up and rule over my heart, my life, and this pain. Cover me with your love. Show me your joy, share with me your peace, and overflow me with your hope. Amen.

DECEMBER 4

DAILY READING

But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him, on those whose hope is in his unfailing love, to deliver them from death and keep them alive in famine. We wait in hope for the Lord; he is our help and our shield. In him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in his holy name. May your unfailing love be with us, Lord, even as we put our hope in you.

Psalm 33:18-22

DEVOTIONAL

DAVID BAILEY

One of my favorite things to do on the coldest days of winter is to sit in my car along the Ohio River, roll down my window, and scan the water for the ducks, grebes, and other waterfowl that call the river home during this season. Not only is it exciting to watch these seasonal visitors, but it often fills me with awe and wonder. Sometimes I can only last a few minutes before the bone-chilling wind and biting frost force me to roll my windows up and blast warm air. Yet I look out on the river and see birds that weigh less than a pound diving in the water, finding crawfish to eat from the silty bottom of the river, and bouncing on the choppy water with seeming contentment.

When I take a moment to be still and consider the ducks that God created to survive such harsh environments, I’m reminded of Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount: “Look at the birds of the air; they don’t sow, or reap, or gather into barns, but your heavenly father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?”

It’s probably not a coincidence that I’m most awestruck by God’s feeding of the birds in winter, because I often find that it coincides with a winter in my own soul where the gray skies, leafless trees, and cold air often leave me feeling heavy-hearted. As I consider my fickle and feeble spirit, taking a moment to watch the ducks on the river reminds me that even as God sustains these birds through the winter, so too will he sustain my soul and bring me into better seasons and ultimately to his new creation.

The writer of Psalm 33 reminds us three times that the Lord’s love is unfailing. Even when I don’t have the fortitude to navigate three months of winter without falling into doldrums, I can have faith that God’s love will not fail.

When I watch Horned Grebes coming up from the bottom of the icy cold Ohio River with a mouthful of food, I can remember that when I feel the icy cold waters of life’s darkest seasons surround me and feel as though I’m being tossed to and fro in the waves of my own mind, surely God will sustain me and lead me to peaceful waters.

While it’s easier to retain the hopefulness of Christ’s return in this Advent season, I invite you to pay attention in a few weeks, when things feel bleak and lifeless. Consider the ducks of the river who are fed without worry each winter, and remember that if God loves us more than they, surely his unfailing love will sustain us now and forever until he returns to us again.

PRAYER

Father, thank you for the way that you reveal your character to us through your creation. When my own joy fails, remind me of your unfailing love that sustains me even in the darkest and most difficult seasons. I long for you to return and make all things new! Amen.

DECEMBER 5 ASHTON CHIPMAN

DAILY READING

Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.

Hebrews 10:19-23

DEVOTIONAL

We often use the word “hope” to refer to wishful thinking. It can seem like an abstract idea or a positive sentiment to hold, especially as the holiday season unfolds around us. Other times, hope is the confidence that we place in ourselves or in the things the world offers.

For a time, my hope rested on a shaky foundation of personal accomplishments and others’ approval. Experiencing some success made this hope feel real, but it was incredibly fragile. Any setback or criticism left me bitterly disappointed, my confidence shaken. I was quickly drained by this cycle of self-reliance and failure until I finally wondered, “What if I shifted the object of my hope entirely?”

The hope that Hebrews talks about isn’t a simple wish or reliance on yourself; instead, it lies securely in a promise that has been made to believers. This promise was not made in haste. It was a promise that was thoughtfully planned and perfectly orchestrated from the fall in the garden to the empty tomb. This promise was not spoken with empty words but was forever sealed with the blood Christ shed on the cross for all humanity. The One who made the promise is not fickle or unreliable. Our God, the promise maker, is completely trustworthy and faithful in all he promises.

So what is this incredible promise that should be the object of our hope? It is the assurance that we can have a personal relationship with the God of the universe both now on earth and forever in heaven. This is because of the perfect life Christ lived, the sacrifice he made for us on the cross, and his glorious victory over sin through his resurrection. The work of Christ established for believers a new covenant by which we can confidently draw near to God knowing that we will not face condemnation or judgment. This covenant doesn’t ask us to prepare ourselves or make a way for ourselves to get to God. If this were so, all hope would truly be lost. The call of this new covenant is simply to come, draw near, and enter in with boldness because of what Christ did on our behalf. Because our chance to be in relationship with God has nothing to do with ourselves and everything to do with Christ who is faithful, we have an unshakeable hope (Ephesians 2:8-9).

This Advent season, be reminded that setting our hope on ourselves or anything of this world will surely fail. Our hope is found in Christ alone and the access we have to the Father through his blood. Rest in the security of God’s promises, knowing that his love is not something we could ever earn; therefore, it is not something we can lose. It is a gift given freely by our faithful God. As we wait with expectant hearts for Christ’s return, we stand on the firm foundation of unwavering hope in our Savior who came and who will surely come again.

PRAYER

Faithful God, thank you for the access we have to you through Jesus. Help us to approach you with confidence in your love for us, and to hold onto the hope we have in you alone. During this Advent season, remind us of your trustworthy promises and the security of our hope in Christ. Amen.

DECEMBER 6

DAILY READING

JON MALKO

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees?

Romans 8:18-24

DEVOTIONAL

Some days, you would think nature was playing for the other team. A dead tree dropping branches over your house, endless weeds, and the pitterpatter of a mouse waiting to visit your cupboard at night. But according to Paul, every creature and tree is yearning for redemption. So are we.

Effects of the fall show up every day. Often for me, it seems like everything is broken–the house, cars, and cracked phone screens. Hard work and sacrifice don’t always seem to pay off. I’ve been strapped for resources way too many times. Am I the only one? The effects of the fall turned everything upside down. Things break down, rewards are cursed or stolen, and scarcity keeps us busy grinding. Life seems dark, lonely, and full of endless toil. Who can keep up? It’s easy to feel like life is hopeless.

When God created man in his image, we inherited his likeness. He is a builder of good things, effective and abundant. This is what the fall has taken away from us and all of creation. He made us to take care of the trees and the creatures that he made.

God made everything, called it good, and gave man the job to work and cultivate his world and everything in it. We suffer because sin entered the world, but creation suffers too. Paul highlights that all of creation has been trapped in corruption, waiting as we do for Jesus to set everything right.

Jesus came to unchain his beloved children, to transform them into who they were supposed to be all along. Day by day, every believer is walking a path to become more like him, and every day it fills me with hope that I might be like him and not be overcome by the curse of sin and the fall.

We have a powerful hope. Instead of starting again with dirt, God decided to restore the world, starting with man, and to put everything back the way he designed it. God called this way good. Each of us who joins God’s family is another sign to every plant and creature around us that God has started to restore the universe.

Setbacks, loss, and uncertainty are still a part of living in this world for now, but God has promised us adoption into his family: we are God’s beloved sons and daughters. Creation is waiting eagerly for the gift of his people to become who he created them to be. This Advent season, remember and draw near to this great hope.

PRAYER

Lord, I admit that many times I make enemies with the world around me. Through suffering, I’ve lost sight of the promise you’ve made with me and with creation. I long for the day that everything will be good again. It’s something I’d like to see with my own eyes. Teach my hands and my heart to restore and build the world around me like you do. Give resources to your people abundantly to do the work. Would you fill my heart with the hope that you would restore me, many people, and even all of creation? I want to live my life from that hope. Stay with me for a while, Lord. Help me see your good plans. Amen.

Peace in the Book of Ruth

MANDY BAILEY

As the second week of Advent begins, we turn our focus from the theme of hope to the theme of peace. The peace that we experience as Christians is much more than an absence of conflict; it is the Hebrew word shalom, which encompasses wholeness, harmony, or right relationship. Shalom can literally be translated “to restore” or “to make something whole.” This is the deep and lasting peace that Christ brings: peace with God, within ourselves, and among each other as a body of believers. Christ’s coming healed something within the broken world and within us, and began the process of restoring us to God and making us whole people.

In the book of Ruth, we see this restorative work of God in bringing Ruth and Naomi to true peace. God blesses Ruth over and over with peace in her circumstances. She clearly has a peace about her, a trust that God will guide her steps. In chapter 1, Ruth tells Naomi, “Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay” (1:16). She is centered. She trusts that no matter where she goes, God is with her. True peace like this begins not in comfort or ease in circumstances–clearly, Ruth’s circumstances were dire–but in steadfast love that you can rely on. Ruth provides this type of steadfast love to Naomi because she is centered in it herself–we can infer from the text that she is resting in God’s steadfast love to her and the peace she feels in his love.

Throughout the story, we see the Lord bless Ruth and give her rest and peace through Boaz. Some of her first words to Boaz are “You have put me at ease by speaking kindly to your servant” (1:13). Boaz provides Ruth a way forward of peace and harmony with his men, instructing them to let her gather grain from his fields freely and to never reprimand her. Boaz has given her security, community, and rest.

Boaz’s role in the story as the kinsman-redeemer also brings legal and social peace to Naomi and Ruth. He restores Naomi’s family name, protects Ruth’s dignity, and provides security for their future. His gracious actions toward the women foreshadow Christ–the ultimate redeemer–who brings peace through reconciliation and restoration (Ephesians 2:14-16). Through Boaz, we get a glimpse of the Prince of Peace, who comes to make all things right and restore our relationships to him and to one another.

At the end of the story of Ruth, Ruth and Naomi experience rest, provision, and blessing. Naomi, once empty and full of anguish, now peacefully holds her grandson, the grandfather of King David. The genealogy at the end of the book points to Jesus, through whom God will ultimately bring eternal peace to all creation. The book ends in shalom: the quiet fullness that comes when God’s promises are fulfilled and when restoration and redemption are victorious.

Peace during Advent reminds us of the reality of the already not yet: we celebrate the peace that we have with God because of Christ’s coming, but we long for the full and perfect peace and restorative shalom that we will experience when he comes again. While it is hard to practice this peace during the hectic Advent season, we can focus less on trying to avoid anxiety or conflict with family members and more on the deep shalom work that God is doing in our hearts and lives, bringing all to fulfillment and restoration and blessing our hearts with a settledness that surpasses understanding (Philippians 4:7).

Boaz replied, “I’ve been told all about what you have done for your mother-in-law since the death of your husband—how you left your father and mother and your homeland and came to live with a people you did not know before. May the Lord repay you for what you have done. May you be richly rewarded by the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge.”

Ruth 2:11-12

DECEMBER 7 BEN CORNISH

DAILY READING

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!”

Luke 2:13-14

DEVOTIONAL

For centuries, Israel had waited in silence—yearning for deliverance, crushed by Rome’s power, weary from sin’s curse and religious legalism. Into that silence, the quiet sky over Bethlehem erupted in thunderous, angelic praise: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace.”

This peace was not a fragile promise of human politics but the arrival of shalom—the fullness of God’s blessing made possible for His imagebearers. Ultimate peace is found exclusively in the presence of God.

But how can God be at peace with those who sin? He made it possible through the life, death, and resurrection of the incarnate Son of God (Romans 5:1; Colossians 1:19-20). That reality is worth proclaiming in joyous song, just as the angels did on that night long ago.

Yet perhaps you can relate when I say that the desire to “proclaim peace through exuberant song” is often drowned out by the noise of evil, suffering, and worry. Much of the time, I could more honestly sing of how peace eludes me. Don’t get me wrong—I know with certainty that I have peace with God. That is, after all, the very center of the gospel (Ephesians 2:1314).

But still, how can I feel at peace when wars threaten national security, when a scammer steals from me or a loved one, when an adoption falls through, or when I stand at the funeral of a dear friend?

If these troubles resonate with you, Scripture offers two encouragements:

1. We should never feel peace about the brokenness of this world. When you are saddened or angered by some tragic event, you’re not supposed to feel peace about it. That unrest is a right response to what God himself grieves (Romans 8:22-23).

2. God’s promise of peace has its greatest impact when we are troubled in spirit by the chaos of this world. It is precisely in our unrest that his comfort meets us most deeply (John 16:33).

The Advent season reminds us that God’s peace is truly present now—for in Christ we have peace with God (Romans 5:1)—and yet it is still to come, for he will one day remake the world into a kingdom of everlasting peace (Revelation 21:4).

So if you are weighed down by a lack of peace this Advent season, remember this: God is not at peace with sin and evil; he offers us true peace through Christ; and he will grant us ultimate peace for all eternity.

PRAYER

Lord Jesus, quiet my restless heart. Let your peace rule in me, reconciling what is broken and restoring what is lost. Fill me with your peace even as your glory fills the heavens, until the day your perfect peace reigns on the earth. Amen.

DECEMBER 8

DAILY READING

JILLIAN TIMBERLAKE

In that day this song will be sung in the land of Judah: We have a strong city; God makes salvation its walls and ramparts. Open the gates that the righteous nation may enter, the nation that keeps faith. You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.

Isaiah 26:1-3

DEVOTIONAL

Memorization has never been my strong suit. I can listen to a song on repeat, but can’t commit the lyrics to memory. I can watch a favorite movie countless times and somehow manage to botch its most quotable lines. Even the titles of books I’ve recently read slip my mind when I try to refer to them later. When it comes to Scripture memorization, well…it’s been a challenge.

I once attempted to memorize one scripture a week for an entire year. I stumbled over the mixed-up words in my mind and could hardly recall any of the verses by the year’s end.

Except for one.

There is one verse I have no trouble remembering. In uncertain times, it instantly floods my memory. I cling to it in my most anxious moments. For more than a decade, it has been the scripture to which I continually return.

You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.

It’s the verse on which I meditated as my body slid into the MRI machine. It’s the verse my mind muttered as I curled my back into a precarious arch while the anesthesiologist administered my epidural. It’s the verse I recite to the beat of my footsteps as I walk off anxiety when it begins to overwhelm me.

I need not look it up. My tongue doesn’t fumble over its syllables. My faulty memory is no match for the permanency of its promise.

What is it about this particular verse that brings me so much comfort? I think it’s three things.

First, this verse is so powerful because of the one who is doing the peacekeeping. Peace is not something I must manufacture or muster on my own. God is the keeper. Because I am kept by him, there is peace. I can rest in this promise even in the face of uncertainty.

The second reason I love this verse is because of the kind of peace promised: a perfect peace. The translation of “perfect” here indicates a complete, absolute peace. Rather than just calm feelings, this type of peace is the steadying of the whole self–mind, body, and spirit.

Lastly, while the peace in this verse may initially seem contingent on our maintaining a “steadfast mind,” it is important to take note of the meaning of steadfast. In the original text, the word used for steadfast actually means “to lean, rest, or prop oneself upon.” It’s not about keeping ourselves together, but about resting the weight of our lives on the One who does.

God is the keeper of our peace.

Peace is not a feeling, but a state of wholeness. We can prop ourselves upon God’s promises.

PRAYER

Lord, when we experience a lack of peace, may we not see our anxiety as failed or faltered faith, but instead may we recognize the disruption as an invitation to prop ourselves up on you. May we lean on the steady pillar of your peace. Keep us in perfect peace, in wholeness and completion. You are the God of peace. Sustain ours. Amen.

DECEMBER 9 JOEL WILPITZ

DAILY READING

“All this I have spoken while still with you. But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”

John 14:25-27

DEVOTIONAL

Imagine being with Jesus when he spoke these powerful promises of peace. For a moment, consider the setting of the Passover feast, a special time of commemorating the suffering, terror, and pain experienced by the Israelites in Egypt, and the staggering delivery out of the clutches of Pharaoh’s Egypt. Jesus knew what he would be walking through, and the deliverance he would offer to his followers as a result of his suffering on our behalf. He also knew the suffering that his disciples would face, and that we face today. With this in mind, Jesus provides a promise of the soon-to-be-bestowed gift of the Holy Spirit. The Helper would be sent to walk with us, teach us, and help us in our recall of Jesus’ teachings and promises.

The Holy Spirit dwells in believers today, journeying alongside, holding us close, and strengthening our minds and spirits. The Holy Spirit continues to offer otherworldly peace, a peace that, when the wind and waves of life crash against us, we must cling to on a daily basis. The Holy Spirit provides us direct access to this peace that transcends anything this earth can offer, even under the best circumstances. The peace from Jesus is rooted in a secure identity as adopted children of a perfectly loving and powerful Father, who will always work for our good, while lavishing us with unconditional love.

The peace offered is not based on answers to our hardest questions or circumstances that turn out in our favor (whatever we think that would be). It is grounded in the assurances and promises of God’s character. We all will face a time, season, or situation where the answers that we can understand do not satisfy, or even worse, drive us away from God. We all drift towards doubt, hurt, and confusion at the favorable circumstances experienced by the wicked and the suffering borne by God’s children. However, this suffering was promised by our Savior, who endured immeasurable pain on our behalf. We long for answers, but are often left unsatisfied by what we can see or comprehend. Instead, brothers and sisters, turn to the Holy Spirit to help you recall the assurance of our Father and the peace promised by Jesus.

The invitation from Jesus in this passage is one of reliance on him and the Holy Spirit to help us recall his teachings, promises and character. This is the only sure pathway to return to a position of peace that rises above how things are going or will go.

As Jesus invites us to rely on the Holy Spirit to experience peace, what circumstance or issue is troubling your heart? How could you face this trial or doubt, knowing that God’s assurances are trustworthy and that you can count on them from now until eternity?

Here is a prayer that I have prayed countless times in seasons of pain:

PRAYER

Holy Spirit, please stir my mind and heart to dwell on the promises of my Father. Help me to recall his kind and loving assurances, and to accept his invitation to rest in him and his love. Jesus, draw near to me in this time of pain. Amen.

DECEMBER 10

DAILY READING

SARAH BLACK

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33

DEVOTIONAL POEM

Breathe in Breathe Out Peace

Solemn, Aloof, Mistaken

What is this peace that I can see–it’s in you–it’s not in me.

You say that if I trust in thee then I will be just as free as the wind within the trees

But I don’t feel it, I don’t see it

To be honest, I don’t even seek it. It feels too hard, too far, too hidden–

I’m mistaken.

Peace? Please.

That’s for you, that’s not for me.

I try to tame it, this turbulation.

This trouble, this constant state of conversation

Between me, my friends, my foes, my family

Why?

Is this the way the world–the world is shaken.

*Click*

Ahh, restoration.

These glowing images have changed my vexation But not for long, oh not for long I cannot run, I cannot hide.

*Click*

It’s back again, these glowing images running through my head I thought they’d calm, I thought they’d take Away the worry–that lay awakened

What do I do? I know the truth

That you provide the medicine for what has kept my soul forsaken

But it feels too hard, Too far

Aloof

I guess I’ll try–I’ll close my eyes

What are the words?

Only one, that is the key

To the freedom for you and me

The peace that comes

Beyond our world

Beyond the places we can see

Just one, I’ll say it and know I’m Free

Jesus

Would you?

Restore the peace you promised me

The world is dark

I cannot see

But there

Just beyond

I see a glimmer, I see a beam

Of the light that I seek It floods, it fills the caverns of my soul

Ah

Breathe in Breath Out

Peace

The world offers so many solutions to the restlessness of our souls, to the hardship in all of our situations. These will not last; they will always disappoint. Even if all you have is one moment, one breath, one tear, bring it to the Lord. Turn to him: in this world you will have tribulation. But take heart, he has overcome the world.

PRAYER

Lord, I bring all that I can offer to you today. I trust that you are the key to the peace my soul is craving. Would you guard me from every other way? Would you protect me in the peace of Christ while on this earth that is filled with tribulation? You know my situation more intimately than even I do. Give me the gift of your presence, your peace. Amen.

DECEMBER 11 MOE CLARK

DAILY READING

The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace. Numbers 6:24-26

DEVOTIONAL

As a father, our drives to Florida on Spring Break fall within the realm of my responsibilities. My champion wife, typically sitting next to me, handles 10,000 requests between our four kids. On our trip back this year, there was no rain, clear skies, with the sun hanging high. The beautiful weather that accompanied us state-to-state was great, until it wasn’t.

Somewhere in Tennessee, as we were nearing Kentucky, weather alerts started pinging our phones. Warning…weather alert…tornado warning. Our kids, seeing our reaction and hearing our phones, became worried as to what this message meant for us. As we were speaking with them, we could literally see darkness and almost feel it approaching: thick clouds that blocked out the sun and heavy rain. The whiplash felt as if we’d stepped into another world. But the primary thing I wanted my kids to know was that Daddy was driving us, and we would be ok.

By the time we crossed over into Kentucky, my windshield wipers were turned to full speed, my chair was scooted up, and I was gripping the steering wheel with a grip force I don’t think I’ve ever used before and haven’t used since. I was afraid. There were pockets of water everywhere, and I could feel our car’s tires slipping for a moment before regaining traction. My music was turned off and my palms were sweaty, but what I saw next blew my mind.

Our oldest daughter Kingsley, who is like the second mom in our family and tends to worry quite a bit, was sound asleep. I mean, she was out, out–pillow against the window and mouth wide open. In the midst of our phone alerts, my fear, sweat, and unrelenting loud rain, she experienced peace. I know her normal disposition when she senses fear. This was different. It was almost as if she understood the danger, but she also knew her daddy was driving. So she lay her head down.

That drive felt like a live-action parable, and I’ve thought about peace on and off since. Peace is something God pronounces over us that doesn’t guarantee that our circumstances are going to change. Biblical peace is an extension of the God of peace. He doesn’t offer peace apart from his presence because such a peace doesn’t truly exist and certainly doesn’t last. God’s peace is rooted in himself. Therefore, when he offers us peace, it is an extension of presence. His peace doesn’t automatically change our predicament, but it changes our relationship to it because we know he is near. As believers, in our confusion, doubt, darkness, fear, or unbelief, the Lord speaks peace to you. It’s almost as a whisper to say, “don’t think you are alone in this.” When his disciples were overwhelmed with Jesus’ looming betrayal and death, Jesus said, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you…let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid” (John 14:27).

PRAYER

Gracious Lord, you have pronounced peace upon your people. You have also told us that in this world we would have trouble. Therefore, we live between both realities. Grant us the strength to grasp and faith to believe that your peace is always with us. From the depths of the valley to the top of the mountain, your peace shall not abandon us. Holy Spirit, minister to our hearts and help us to believe even in our weakness that today we experience peace in part, but shall soon experience it in full. Amen.

DECEMBER 12 CYNTHIA GAULT

DAILY READING

Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

Romans 5:1–5

DEVOTIONAL

When my family moved to Costa Rica in 2002, I expected accelerated language acquisition, easy friendships, and a smooth cultural adjustment. How wrong I was! Instead, I felt lonely, frustrated, and far from home. We had come to study Spanish before missionary service, but I was discouraged and missing my family as Christmas approached.

Then on Christmas Eve, in a church where we knew no one, I heard a familiar carol sung in Spanish: “Silent Night.” I was struck that this song, originally written in German and learned by me in English as a small child, was now filling the room in another language. Listening to “Noche de Paz,” I was overwhelmed with gratitude for the God of paz—the God who extends his peace to all peoples and languages.

Thinking back on that moment, Romans 5:1 became personal. Through faith in Christ, I realized again that I have peace with God—a settled relationship made right through his grace. This peace is not a passing feeling but the firm foundation of justification.

Paul goes on to show that this peace with God leads to the peace of God—a daily calm and confidence even in hardship. As we face trials, God uses them to produce perseverance, character, and hope through his Spirit at work within us.

That Christmas, singing “Noche de Paz,” I sensed his deep peace. The God who made peace with me was also teaching me to live in his peace. For seventeen years in Costa Rica, that song reminded me each Christmas that the Prince of Peace not only reconciles us to God but fills our hearts with his peace every day.

Where do you most need to experience not just peace with God, but the peace of God this Advent season?

PRAYER

Lord Jesus, thank you for bringing me peace with God through your cross. Teach me to walk daily in the peace of God, trusting your presence in every circumstance. Amen.

DECEMBER 13

DAILY READING

JESSICA

LAGOMARCINO

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:4-7

DEVOTIONAL

I began my morning with a gasp out loud as I realized that the draft of this very devotional was due the day prior, and I’d forgotten. From there, I multitasked cooking breakfast and quizzing my daughter for a test. I tried to sync carpooling for seemingly impossible schedules for all of the kids’ sports and activities. I texted with a dear friend in crisis, all the while feeling a thrum of guilt that I should be doing more. And then there’s the real highlight of the morning: the puppy we’re babysitting snarfed down an entire chicken leg off the counter last night, landed herself in the puppy ER, and now was pooping and vomiting all over my house. (I bet you never thought you’d read that sentence in an Advent devotional!)

After some hours of this, I made an observation about how I was coping. I realized that I was literally saying to myself in my mind: “I am so overwhelmed.” I was telling my brain and body how to interpret my chaotic circumstances, and that was with the very unhelpful emotion of sheer overwhelm. Perhaps you’ve heard yourself thinking the same thing this Advent? We still have the daily realities of our normal lives and routines, but then add in the gifts, the events, the preparation for time with extended family, perhaps struggling with loss, or feeling the pressure to craft the perfect holiday.

These verses from Philippians offer us a different way. It’s possible to exist in the busyness of our lives without the overwhelm, instead experiencing a perfect peace in our hearts and minds. First, Paul says, remember the Lord is near. You need never figure out all the schedules and dog poop and ministry crises alone. He is with you. Next, he tells us, “do not be anxious about anything.” Well, that seems impossible–how do we do that? He tells us simply to talk to God about it and ask him for help. When we do that simple act, Paul says that God will deploy his warrior guardian, Peace, to protect our minds and hearts.

God doesn’t necessarily say that our circumstances will change, but that we will be guarded by peace. Our minds and hearts will be kept in perfect peace as we remember his nearness and talk to him about our lives. We are prone to believe the lie that peace is possible only when circumstances are what we would choose. No, he guards our hearts and minds to exist in peace, no matter the circumstance, because he is with us and we are processing it all with him. Peace is waiting for you this Advent season. I invite you: Instead of confessing overwhelm to yourself, confess your burdens to the Lord and let him guard you with perfect peace.

PRAYER

Lord, we are prone to look at our circumstances and flail about in overwhelm rather than letting you provide your promised peace. Help us this Advent to remember your nearness and to enjoy relationship with you. Thank you that when we lay down our anxiety and bring our requests to you, you promise to guard our hearts and minds with your peace. Amen.

Joy in the Book of Ruth

MANDY BAILEY

This third week of Advent, we turn to the theme of joy. Joy, I think, can be a difficult concept because it’s often interpreted as eternal and unwavering happiness with no room for suffering or sadness. As you will see in the following seven pieces, joy and sadness are not opposites and, in fact, often coexist. Joy is not simply a happygo-lucky disposition or feeling, but in fact a deep gladness and security in God’s presence and promises that come to fruition in Christ. The source of our joy is not our circumstances, but our redeemer himself, Jesus.

In the book of Ruth, we see that Ruth and Naomi also find deep and lasting joy in their redeemer, Boaz, who is meant to point us forward to Christ. The story’s arc is all about joy restored, beginning in grief, famine, death, and emptiness; but ending in overflowing blessing and new life. At the beginning of the story, Naomi is despairing

and joyless, but by the end of the story, her joy is made full because of the ways that God has provided for her. Ruth models joy in her circumstances throughout the book–joy that is found and rooted deeply in the Lord.

In chapter two, Ruth and Naomi first experience great joy at the kindness of Boaz and his provision for them. “‘The Lord bless him!’ Naomi said to her daughter-in-law. ‘He has not stopped showing his kindness to the living and the dead’” (2:10). Naomi’s heart, once bitter, begins to thaw. Joy peeks through her grief as she recognizes God’s kindness at work again. This is a turning point—a rediscovered joy in the knowledge that God had not forgotten her. Ruth, too, feels this sense of joy: rescued and secure in Boaz’s love as her kinsman-redeemer. Because of Christ, we too have this sense that we are redeemed and taken care of, and that sense is not simply a moment of happiness but an ongoing truth that gives us joy.

Joy is something that we can experience through beholding God’s faithfulness. We see all the women surrounding Ruth and Naomi rejoicing and praising the Lord in chapter 4: “Praise be to the Lord, who this day has not left you without a guardian-redeemer. May he become famous throughout Israel! He will renew your life and sustain you in your old age” (4:14-15). Joy does not replace or completely eclipse sadness–the birth of Obed does not take away the pain of Naomi losing her husband–but Naomi and Ruth can have deep and abiding joy in the Lord’s provision even in the midst of and alongside their sadness and suffering.

During Advent, we celebrate Christ, the Light of the World, coming and transforming every dark place with light. He came so that we might have joy; Jesus said, “These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full” (John 15:11). Advent is a season of waiting, and joy sustains us as we wait. It’s a posture of trust that God’s promises are sure, no matter our circumstances.

The women said to Naomi: “Praise be to the Lord, who this day has not left you without a guardian-redeemer. May he become famous throughout Israel! He will renew your life and sustain you in your old age. For your daughter-in-law, who loves you and who is better to you than seven sons, has given him birth.”

Ruth 4:14-15

DECEMBER 14 ZACK VAN ZANT

DAILY READING

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

DEVOTIONAL

Leading up to Christmas, we see the word “joy” everywhere. It’s on the ads we see, the songs we hear, and the stockings we hang. Yet for many, the word “joy” feels less like a celebration of what we have and more like a reminder of what’s missing.

I know that feeling well. I struggle to understand how some people seem effortlessly joyful. They go through life with a certain ease that I don’t seem to possess. If I’m being honest, I feel the same way when I come to verses like this. Rejoice always? Give thanks in all circumstances? Get real.

But Paul, who wrote these words, was no stranger to suffering. He was beaten, shipwrecked, stoned, imprisoned, and constantly in danger (2 Corinthians 11:16-33). If anyone had reason to doubt God’s goodness, it was Paul–yet his joy endured.

During one of my darkest seasons, I found solace in the hymn “Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus.” Its author, Helen Lemmel, lost her sight and was abandoned by her husband, leaving her alone and destitute. When asked how she was, her reply was, “I am fine in the things that count.” She later wrote this hymn:

O soul, are you weary and troubled?

No light in the darkness you see?

There’s a light for a look at the Saviour, And life more abundant and free!

Turn your eyes upon Jesus, Look full in His wonderful face, And the things of earth will grow strangely dim, In the light of His glory and grace.

So how did Miss Lemmel rejoice amid such hardship? How did Paul? How can we?

By turning our eyes to Jesus.

In Jesus, the darkest suffering led to the greatest joy. For the joy set before him, he endured the cross (Hebrews 12:2). Jesus endured, not by focusing on the cross, but on the joy beyond it–the joy of being exalted to the Father’s right hand and redeeming his people through his sacrifice.

This Christmas, let us fix our eyes on that same joy. A joy that comes not from perfect circumstances, but from a perfect Savior. The world’s version of joy fades with the season, but the joy of Christ endures through every trial. When we turn our eyes upon him, even the heaviest burdens grow lighter in the light of his glory and grace.

PRAYER

Father God, it is your will in Christ that I rejoice always, pray continually, and give thanks in every circumstance. But I confess that this is hard. When faced with trials, I doubt your power and your goodness. By your Spirit, please set my heart on the joy of your salvation in your Son, Jesus. In his name I pray, Amen.

DECEMBER 15 CHRISTEN AROH

DAILY READING

An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.”

Luke 2:9-11

DEVOTIONAL

Jesus’ birth is the most joyous story this world will ever hear! Don’t you think? I immediately think of the well-known carol:

Joy to the world, the Lord has come

Let earth receive her King

Let every heart prepare Him room

And heaven and nature sing

I used to think being joyful meant always having a pep in my step and a cheerful, smiling demeanor. Sort of like a golden retriever’s personality trapped in a human body. Don’t get me wrong–there are a few seasons of life where I was genuinely able to show up in that way…but man, it’s super exhausting to fake being “great!” all the time. And I know I’m not the only one who has tried.

Over the years, the Lord has kindly revealed to me the difference between happiness and joy–it comes down to the source. Happiness is rooted in temporary, positive circumstances or worldly, tangible possessions. It is fleeting and hollow. I am not saying it’s “bad” to feel happy; it certainly isn’t! But I am saying that joy is more than a superficial feeling.

Joy is a peaceful gladness of the heart. It endures through all the inevitable trials life throws at us, because it is rooted in someone. Not in your paycheck, your completed to-do list, that vacation coming up, the presents under the tree, or even the affirmation of your peers at school. The source of deep, true, lasting joy is found in the person of Jesus Christ and the hope of the gospel message. Joy is our soul’s natural response to knowing, experiencing, and fully trusting Jesus.

In the Bible, Jesus himself tells us that in this life we will have to navigate low points and suffer wounds–an unexpected diagnosis, loss, betrayal, fear, grief, relapse, chronic pain, anxiety, rejection, depression, loneliness…What is it that you are battling today? Whatever it is, be assured that despair doesn’t have the final say. On our hardest, darkest days, we hold fast to the Psalm 30 promise that “Joy comes in the morning.”

Can I remind you of another really awesome truth? Joy is something Christ-followers will radiate without “trying.” And praise God for that! So I encourage you to show up as you are this Advent season. No masking. No hiding. Because of the joy of our salvation, we can worship with thanksgiving in the midst of suffering. And what a freedom that is!

PRAYER

Father, thank you for Christ’s birth and what that means for me as your child. Lord, help me to step more fully into the freedom that comes from a relationship with you. Let my joy bear witness to your life-changing love. Give me opportunities and courage to share the good news of great joy with others. In Jesus’ mighty name, Amen.

DECEMBER 16 BEN MAST

DAILY READING

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

1 Peter 1:3-9

DEVOTIONAL

I will never forget the day I learned about food poisoning. I was a hungry college freshman, and for days I’d been eyeing my roommate’s chicken parmesan stashed away in our dorm fridge. Obviously he’s not gonna eat it, I thought, and popped it in the microwave, styrofoam container and all. In my hungry state, it tasted even better than I expected. But my joy was short-lived and I paid the price all day and into the dark of night. Food spoils. Lesson learned.

Life on earth teaches us that many things perish, spoil, and fade. Cars break down. Houses fall into disrepair. The best Christmas gifts offer us a temporary joy–we find that it never lasts. The greatest pleasures of this life fail to sustain us. Living in a fallen world means everything spoils and fades. Youth meets the inevitability of aging, which we can maybe hold off for a while, but not forever. Even the joy of love and companionship with family and friends comes to an end when the people around us perish.

Peter writes about an inexpressible joy that will never perish, spoil, or fade. We can’t even imagine what that looks like, but Peter tells us the prophets searched intently for it and that angels long to look into these things. They had hints of something coming that means everything.

For many, joy is not a natural inclination. Perhaps you are trudging through this Advent season. A season of waiting. A season of anticipating. Maybe you’re just waiting for the holidays to be over, anticipating not having to think about the emptiness or anxiety that the season seems to bring. The call from Peter is to consider that though we may feel pain, sorrow, and trials for a little while, there is a new reality coming when all things will be made new. Fading, spoiling, and perishing will be no more.

You probably weren’t looking for opportunities for your faith to be tested this Christmas. But perhaps this season is one where faith is holding out hope that this promise–the salvation of our souls and inexpressible, permanent joy–is true. We are waiting for something we have not yet seen. Hold on. Take heart. Jesus is keeping your inheritance. Everlasting joy is coming. When you taste it, you will be satisfied forever.

PRAYER

Lord, while we wait for your return, help us to put our hope in you and your promises, which never perish, spoil, or fade. Focus our hearts and minds on the ultimate gift, the inheritance you are keeping. In your mercy, give us a taste of this inexpressible joy this Christmas. Amen.

DECEMBER 17

DAILY READING

SARAH AROH

And those the Lord has rescued will return. They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away.

Isaiah 35:10

DEVOTIONAL

In this broken world, our days are filled with the tension of holding both joy and sorrow together. This has never been clearer to me than through my recent journey into motherhood.

At the beginning of 2023, I was overjoyed to learn I was pregnant with my first baby. That joy was quickly replaced with despair, as we learned that our sweet baby girl had a diagnosis that was not compatible with life. We were told she would likely not make it to delivery, and if she did, she would only live a few minutes or hours at best. In the midst of our devastation, the Lord continued to care for us in so many miraculous ways. Our daughter, Eden, was born on October 24th, and we were blessed with a few precious hours with her before she went to be with Jesus.

At the beginning of 2024, we became pregnant again. The complexity of my emotions during that time is hard to put into words, but I clung to these verses throughout my pregnancy: “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope. The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:22-23). Our son, Noah, came into the world on October 25th, one day after his big sister’s first heavenly birthday. The timing of his birth felt like a sweet picture from the Lord of redemption and hope. Rejoicing over the life of our son while grieving the death of our daughter has honestly been incredibly difficult.

How can we experience full joy and full sorrow concurrently? The truth is, we weren’t meant to.

Oh, how I long for the day when the Lord will wipe every tear from our eyes and make all things new. I long for the day when death, mourning, crying, and pain will be no more (Revelation 21). We will experience gladness and joy, untempered by sorrow and sighing. Can you even imagine? We will be rescued from this tension and heaviness. We will be free to sing praises, unburdened and unhindered. We will be crowned with everlasting joy!

PRAYER

Thank you, Lord, for sending your son Jesus to rescue us and restore us to joy–true, uncomplicated joy that can only be experienced in your presence. Thank you for sitting with us in the valleys of grief and sustaining us with glimpses of this joy through your good gifts. Amen.

DECEMBER 18 STEVE HENDRICKS

DAILY READING

I will praise the Lord, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me. I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken. Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; my body also will rest secure, because you will not abandon me to the realm of the dead, nor will you let your faithful one see decay. You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.

Psalm 16:7-11

DEVOTIONAL

In a recent sermon, Pastor Jonathan asked the congregation to think about a time in our life that brought great joy. I immediately thought about the births of my three children and four grandchildren. Those were some of the most joy-filled days of my life!

There is something deeply moving about the birth of a newborn baby— fragile, full of life, signaling the beginning of something new. The arrival of a baby changes everything. The exhaustion is real, but the joy…it’s overwhelming! New life brings new joy!

The Psalmist in our passage uses kingly language when he talks about being at the right hand of the Lord. Being at the king’s right hand meant you had special access and favor with the king. When King Jesus entered our world, he did not come as a conquering king, but as a baby. A tiny, vulnerable newborn laid in a feeding trough. The long-awaited Savior enters the world in a human thrill of joy!

We chase a variety of things to bring about joy in our lives: status, power, possessions, or amazing experiences. All of these can bring about a temporary sense of joy.

But real, deep, and lasting joy comes to us in the form of a person, and his name is Jesus. Joy showed up 2,000 years ago when it was least expected and to those who least expected to receive it.

The King of Eternity put on flesh, came near, and it was joyous! John writes about this in 1 John 1:1-4. He says the one who was from the beginning came to us–we heard him, we saw him, we touched him–and he made himself known to us! He was approachable and accessible. John’s joy came from knowing the King. We too can know the King and experience true joy, for John tells us in 1 John 1:4: “We are writing these things so you can fully share our joy.”

As we reflect on Psalm 16 and on the birth and life of our King and Savior, we find that joy–lasting joy–is not a goal to obtain but the result of a relationship with the one who is Joy to the World!

PRAYER

Jesus, thank you for coming to us in the humblest way—as a baby. Grow in me the fruit of joy, not based on what I have, feel, or experience, but rooted in who you are. Help me carry that joy into a world that desperately needs it. Amen.

DECEMBER 19

DAILY READING

JACKIE

LOPINA

Sing praises to the Lord, O you his saints, and give thanks to his holy name. For his anger is but for a moment, and his favor is for a lifetime. Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.

Psalm 30:4-5

DEVOTIONAL

As a parent of a child with disabilities, I’ve experienced many dark nights. There are numerous compounding griefs when life doesn’t go the way you hope it will.

I’ve begged God for healing, strength, and for life to be easier. At least daily, I exclaim, “I can’t do this! It’s just too hard!” Grief and pain can threaten to overwhelm us. It can be easier to act like everything is fine or lie to ourselves about how much we’re actually hurting.

But God calls us to something deeper. He desires us to trust him, to be honest with ourselves and him, and to bring our deepest sorrow to his feet. When we step out in courageous faith, our loving Father transforms us. He melds and shapes our grief and integrates it into who we are. Through weeping and processing our grief, he deepens us, grows us, and makes us more like Jesus.

There have been times when I wondered if the happy version of me was only in the past. Joy felt out of reach in circumstances that would always be a little hard.

Yet through these years, as the Lord has deepened my heart, I’ve been so surprised to see that he has grown my joy as well. This joy is soul deep, grounded, and wise. It does not change with circumstances but gives solid ground on which to stand.

This joy gives confidence and allows me to endure the hard days—the joy of the Lord truly became my strength (Nehemiah 8:10)! The joy that comes through grief, that comes “in the morning” after a season of grieving, is richer and deeper than I thought it could be.

We don’t “graduate” from grief and then get to experience joy. We experience them both full-on—often at the same time. I grieve seeing my daughter in distress and rejoice in my growth, that this meltdown isn’t spiraling me like meltdowns did six months ago. I grieve that my daughter has trouble communicating and laugh when we wordlessly dance together in the kitchen.

This deep joy is grief’s cousin—and she’s hard-fought and hard-won. She’s truer than I thought she was when life was easy. She’s fuller and more beautiful than I imagined.

Grief and joy aren’t opposite ends of the spectrum. They inform one another. And they have the power to transform us if we’re brave enough to look them each in the face. This Advent season, we have the opportunity to do just that. As we grieve the sorrow in the world and in our own lives, we get to step into Bethlehem and rejoice that our Savior has entered this world. He has brought us salvation and life, and also brought abundant JOY into our broken and weary hearts. Praise be to God!

PRAYER

God, we praise you that you don’t leave us alone in our dark nights. Lord, give us the courage to bring our pain to you, trusting that you are working even our darkest days for your glory and our good. Jesus, we boldly ask that no matter what we’re experiencing, you would bring us abundant, deep, and abiding joy. Amen.

DECEMBER 20 BROOKE MALKO

DAILY READING

Very truly I tell you, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world. So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy. In that day you will no longer ask me anything. Very truly I tell you, my Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete.

John 16:20-24

DEVOTIONAL

On a beautiful September evening 15 years ago, I headed to the hospital to be induced with my first child. I was filled with excitement and anticipation, but as the day unfolded, all my well-laid plans began to crumble as things were not progressing the way the doctors expected. After nearly 24 hours, some complications had arisen that brought my doctor to my bedside, informing me that I would have a c-section.

This was not an outcome I had planned or hoped for, but labor had been hard already, and my doctor did her best to ease my mind. As we headed into the operating room, I had hope that very soon my long-awaited baby would be in my arms. The complications didn’t end there, though. I wasn’t responding well to medication, and the c-section had become urgent, so we had to move forward even though they hadn’t been able to numb me completely. It was a hard surgery, and I was more than a little groggy during and after.

I remember so little from what was supposed to be one of the sweetest, albeit hardest, moments of my life. At the time, it was too much of a whirlwind to feel the disappointment; that would come later. But what I do remember is waking up in my hospital room in the middle of the night, little memory of how I got there, and seeing my sleeping son lying there beside me. And for the first time that I could cognizantly remember, I picked up my beautiful, tiny newborn and laid him on my lap. In that dark, quiet hospital bed, I gently unwrapped his swaddle and took him in. His long, delicate fingers wrapped around mine as I peeled back his baby beanie to reveal a head full of light brown hair. His foot–no bigger than my thumb–kicked as he felt the cool air hit his stomach, and I was in awe!

It had been a hard day, full of groaning, sorrow, pain, brokenness; but in that moment I tasted something deeper, something eternal. How could this be that this tiny, perfect human grew in me and was now real, tangible, in my arms and in my heart in a way I had never experienced? It was a taste of the kingdom of heaven, a taste of joy!

This world is filled with so much sorrow and so much brokenness, but in small moments, joy breaks through. Not a feeling, not just happiness, but a taste of the world the way God intended it to be. In John 16, Jesus is preparing the disciples for his crucifixion. He is preparing them for sorrow, but with a promise. The promise that death and brokenness do not have the final word, that joy will break through, and that joy will be eternal. Jesus uses childbirth as the metaphor here: Sorrow is circumstantial, but joy is what is real, what is hidden underneath, unstoppable. Joy is the thing that will last.

In this life, we will have many sorrows. We will face circumstances that feel unbearable and worries that consume us. But sometimes in life, there are moments when God’s Kingdom cracks through. For me, one such moment was in that hospital room, in the dark, with a tiny miracle in my arms. Maybe for you it is in a shared meal with a family you treasure, a still moment in your backyard, or in the closing of a book that was a true work of art. A moment where time seems to stand still as you taste and see the goodness that God intends to fill this world with when he returns to rule and reign forever!

Despite the circumstances of life, the kingdom of God is coming, and when we taste it here in this world, the feeling it stirs up is joy. A settledness deep inside that everything wrong is coming undone, and that what is true, good, and beautiful is what will remain. At Advent, as we wait for the coming of the fullness of this joy, we are reminded that Mary, too, faced the hardship of labor and was met with the greatest of joys as she held baby Jesus, the joy of the world, in her arms. It is because of that moment that we can look for signs of the Kingdom, though now we see them dimly. Let joy well up in you, because one day we will see it face to face!

PRAYER

Lord, give me eyes to see your Kingdom shine through, even in the midst of brokenness and sorrow. May you use these glimpses of new life to implant joy deep in my heart so that when the weight of life is heavy, I can wait in eager expectation and rest assured that your truth, goodness, and beauty reign today and forevermore! Amen.

Love in the Book of Ruth

MANDY BAILEY

These final five days of Advent, we come to the pinnacle theme of the season: love. The theme of love in Advent is the crown jewel–the culmination of all the other weeks’ themes. This final week centers on the truth that God’s love took on flesh and entered our world, not from a distance, but personally, vulnerably, and redemptively in Jesus Christ.

In Ruth’s story, we see love that is not a romantic or sentimental feeling, but a true hesed love–steadfast, covenantal, and loyal–that mirrors God’s own heart and stems from his love for her. Ruth shows us that this kind

of love is faithful, sacrificial, redemptive, and restorative in the way that she loves Naomi. Ruth tells her mother-in-law, “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me” (1:16-17). This is Ruth’s covenantal act, promising Naomi that she will remain with her and that she will love her to the end. We also see Ruth’s full and total trust in Naomi when she follows Naomi’s instructions to go to Boaz. She says, “I will do whatever you say” (3:5).

Ruth’s love for Naomi transforms both of their lives. Whereas Naomi would have otherwise been alone, without hope of a future family, and struggling to survive, she instead is given loyalty, deep friendship, a new grandson, and a secure future. Ruth’s story foreshadows Advent love in every way; it is incarnational love that enters brokenness and promises to remain. It is redemptive love that makes a sacrifice for restoration. It is a transforming love that turns emptiness into joy. Just as Ruth’s love brought new life to Naomi, God’s love brings new life to our world. Bethlehem–where Ruth’s story ends–becomes the same Bethlehem where love incarnate is born.

The love we celebrate at Advent is this deep hesed. It is not just a feeling, but an action–it comes down and it rescues. John tells us that “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” (John 1:14). And because of the love that has been given to us through the gift of Christ, we can then love one another as Ruth loves Naomi (1 John 4:7). We celebrate at Christmas that God’s love is no longer abstract, but that it took on a name, a face, and a heartbeat in the person of Jesus.

“Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me.”

Ruth 1:16-17

DECEMBER 21 MARY DEFFENBAUGH

DAILY READING

The Lord is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and rich in love. The Lord is good to all; he has compassion on all he has made.

Psalm 145:8-9

DEVOTIONAL

In these final weeks of the holiday season, while enduring long car rides, annoying personality traits, cramped living conditions, and the endless buffet of goodies, I find my introverted self feeling rather worn down. Often, to cope, I turn to my phone, endlessly scrolling, trying just to get through this season. Every year, I hope I can summon the energy to show up as my ideal self, but those plans usually fall flat. In contrast to how God is described in Psalm 145, in my holiday exhaustion, one could say: Mary is snappy and unpleasant, quick to anger, and lacking in love. Clearly, I’m still in need of more transformation.

Maybe at some point in the holidays you can relate to these feelings. Time with family can be hard for many reasons, and our divisive culture only compounds them. But as believers we are not called to fix what is broken; we are called to be transformed into the image of God. In other words, we are called to the lifelong pursuit of becoming more like him.

What would it look like for me to be a little more like God this season, to be richer in love? Maybe that means simply being open and present for conversation, playing a board game with a niece or nephew, offering to help with dishes, or maybe, when I’m running low, taking a break to reconnect with God.

Probably no other verse in the Bible is going to give us a clearer picture of who God is than verse 8. It is actually quoting Exodus 34:6, God’s selfproclaimed name given to Israel through Moses. This is more than just his name, but who he is to his core. God reveals himself as “the Lord, gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.” Sounds amazing, but deep down, do I actually believe that this is what God is really like? Or do I feel like God’s love is more like my own, quick to run out? The only way to believe God’s love is to experience it on a soul level.

Maybe a meditation on God’s love through the birth of Jesus can touch and transform our hearts this season. Through the birth of Jesus, we see God’s name lived out. In the midst of a broken, sinful, and turbulent time in humanity (much like today), God sent his Son, not to condemn the world but to save it, to show it grace and mercy. Through this act, the Lord shows himself to be gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and rich in love. Seeing God’s heart for his world gives me courage to interact with others the way he does. It frees me from my selfishness and self-protection. If God has not given up on the world he has made, then I can enter in with love this season, knowing that he has not given up on me either. Unlike us, our God, who is rich in love, always has more to give.

PRAYER

God, help me to experience your abounding love in deeper ways this holiday season. Help me to become more like you, rich in love to those around me. Amen.

DECEMBER 22 SAM YONG

DAILY READING

This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.

1 John 4:9-12

DEVOTIONAL

Love is something we all want but never have quite enough of. It raises deep, existential questions in us. The brutality of love’s absence and the magnetism of its crescendo outline the extremes of human emotion.

It’s themed in every story, needed by every heart, and bewildering to every mind.

I’m a newlywed of about six months, meaning that 1) I’ve been thinking a great deal about love, and 2) I’ve got an even greater deal to learn. Here are four reflections from someone who is still learning what it means to love and to be loved.

Love, the action:

“This is how God showed his love among us…” he sent Jesus to give us life.

In high school, I was a theater kid. Before walking on stage, anxiety and adrenaline would flood my body. Looking into the audience, I didn’t really notice the people I knew. I noticed the people that I needed to be there: a family member, a best friend, a mentor. This made all the difference. They showed up.

Like faith and works, love without action doesn’t have much to offer us.

I’ve known and been the person who’s made well intentioned promises and failed to follow through. Love without action produces insecurity, the prelude to shame.

Love expressed through action brings life. Good intentions say, “I’ll be there.” Love perfects those intentions by saying, “I’m here.”

Love, the realization:

“This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us…”

I’m currently training to be a therapist. Working with clients has shown me the difference between changing something about yourself and realizing something about yourself. I often pause counseling sessions to recognize what already is: “You’re here–you showed. You already have the desire to change, and the work has already begun.”

The realization of what “already is” critically informs our ability to change. When you consider the idea that you are already loved by God, shortcomings and all, what emotions surface? I feel a sense of divine helplessness. I couldn’t have earned his love–I wasn’t born when it began.

I didn’t ask for this love–I wouldn’t know how. Even when shame prompts me to reject the inevitability of God’s love, it still validates me. I can’t work my way into it, and I can’t sin my way out of it. I truly cannot help but be loved by God.

Love cannot be forced or manufactured. But it can be realized, received, and ultimately manifested toward lasting change.

Love, the invitation:

“Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.”

Love will not be repressed; it will pour out.

Strange as it may sound, my male friends and I often say, “I love you” at the end of phone calls. When one friend first said it to me without attaching a “man” or “bro” to the end, I thought he was making a joke. When I started saying it back, I realized how true the statement was.

Love invites us to be honest and vulnerable with others. It can bind us simply by being acknowledged. I believe God wants good things for us. The love we find in one another is evidence of that.

Love, the completion:

“...if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.”

I’ve spent most of my life feeling like a core part of me is missing. I’ve looked for that missing piece in healthy and unhealthy places. But when I’m with someone who truly loves me, I don’t feel that way anymore–laughing with my wife, catching up with a friend, leading worship with my favorite people. I believe that is because God’s love and the people who embody it offer us a sense of deep completion.

Jesus was born to give us fullness of life. For most, life grows harder with time. God’s love operates on a parallel process: the longer we abide in it, the more complete we become.

Jesus’ love says, “I’m here.”

Jesus’ love is waiting to be realized and received.

Jesus’ love is contagious.

Jesus’ love is complete.

Father, you loved me first, freely and unconditionally. Jesus, you showed me love with your birth, blood, and burial. Spirit, you fill me with the resurrecting love of Christ. May others see this love in me, and then find its completion in you. Amen.

DECEMBER 23 LINDSAY OLGES

DAILY READING

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8:37-39

DEVOTIONAL

Take a minute to consider the realities of your life right now. For me, there are good things I can celebrate and am thankful for as I consider some transitions that just a year ago felt almost impossible. The phrase “more than a conqueror” is a hard one to wear, especially when feeling worn down. Even when things are going well, it is so easy to forget that God holds the victory and I am enveloped by his love for me.

I’m still facing a challenge that’s hard to navigate and often shows my weaknesses. Additionally, a friend is battling an uncertain health concern, and several people I care about have experienced the loss of a loved one recently. Much of the current news, politics, and divisive talk is a source of sorrow, frustration, or confusion. I read something the other day that unexpectedly hurled me into overwhelming sadness mixed with panic. It felt like an attack, and maybe it felt a bit like a past experience. I know I still carry grief and anxiety after the difficult loss of my mom almost 20 years ago and the sudden near-loss of my husband six years after that. Those are things that don’t fully go away. Sometimes I don’t understand how God works through these circumstances, and I can fear the things to come. There are just a lot of hard things in our lives–really hard things like Paul mentions in the verses preceding these, and the hard things you might be in the middle of right now. So many different realities of this world can

persuade us to believe we are losing our battles and have lost God’s loving care.

Because for now, we are subject to various afflictions and even called to suffering. Christ was no stranger to this kind of suffering and sorrow, and even to death. Jesus lived and died for us, walking perfectly centered in God’s great and incomprehensible love, a love that is ours just the same. A love that remains faithful in all things and lasts forever. A love that has declared victory on our behalf. As God raised the One he so loved to life, we get to live each day with that same love and that same hope.

A phrase that anchors me in God’s faithfulness and who I am is simply this: He holds me. Yet what really makes this good news is that I am held in his love. In Christ, nothing–no terrible loss, no terrifying situation, no diagnosis, no long and deep valley, and no fear of something now or in the future–can separate me from his unending love.

I like how the NLT puts it: “No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us” (Romans 8:37). As we celebrate Christmas, let us celebrate his redeeming love. And may God persuade us that not one thing in our life can tear us apart from that love.

PRAYER

Father in Heaven, when the things of this life–the now or the future, the pain I feel, the way I reacted again, or any other things–tempt me to feel defeated and doubt your goodness, let me come back to the hope I have in your victory that is mine in Christ. May I rest secure in your steadfast and never-failing love for me. Amen.

DECEMBER 24

DAILY READING

AMY SIMPSON

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

1 Corinthians 13:4-7, 13

DEVOTIONAL

When I first moved to Louisville after college, I met a group of people who invited me to play in a recreational soccer league. I had never played soccer before, but they assured me that it was a beginner’s league and that as long as I had some athletic experience, I would be fine. If I weren’t desperate to make connections and establish some friendships in my new city, I probably would have asked more questions. But I signed up and showed up at my first game prepared to (hopefully) have fun.

Our captain asked who wanted to be the goalie as we huddled together before the kick-off, and for no reason other than how uncomfortable prolonged silence makes me feel, I volunteered. Nothing could have prepared me for those first two minutes of the game, when the ball was already flying toward me at rapid speed. I was too preoccupied with the shock of realizing how “beginner” could take on such diverse meaning that I forgot to protect the goal, and instead dodged out of the way to avoid injury. None of my teammates offered to trade me, and we lost the game 16-0.

In addition to questioning my new friends’ discernment, I found myself longing for even playing fields, where everyone is starting on the same line.

Not only was this my first experience in a new city; it was one of my first experiences in adulthood. In many aspects of my life, I felt catapulted into places where people knew more than me, lived more than me, and had more than me.

I’ve had almost 20 years to know more, live more, and gain more since those early days of adulthood, and my past self might be surprised to realize how much I still feel like an amateur, and how often I look around to see if that might be true for anyone else. It’s in this state of vulnerability that I find great comfort in Paul’s description of love in 1 Corinthians 13. The Corinthians were impressive people, leaning on their talents to make them mature, building their spiritual resumes and believing they had “made it.” In many ways, “love is patient, love is kind” is a confrontation. Paul is letting them know they have the wrong measuring stick in their hand, that they’re depending too much on their gifts and not on their fruit.

Of course, Paul didn’t use a dictionary to build this description of love. He used the life and teachings of Jesus to tell us what fruit we should be looking for. If we are becoming more like Jesus, this is who we will be: slow to anger, rejoicing in truth, denying our pride.

During Christmas, we remember the man who “all for love’s sake became poor.” And we remind ourselves that becoming like Jesus doesn’t require our skills as much as it asks us to identify with a Savior that traded his throne for a manger.

PRAYER

God, on days when I feel like a nobody or a somebody, help me to remember that love made himself nothing to be with me. Help me give the gift of love through the fruit of being transformed by you, and receive the gift of love by knowing it is given regardless of merit. Amen.

DECEMBER 25 JACOB PERCY

DAILY READING

“As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.”

John 15:9–11

DEVOTIONAL

When Jesus speaks these words, he draws back the curtain on the inner life of God. Before the world began, the Father loved the Son in perfect delight. That same love now reaches us through Christ. The love that has always existed within God himself, the eternal joy and communion of Father and Son, is extended to those who belong to Jesus. That is the starting point of the Christian life: we are loved because Christ has set his love upon us.

But notice how Jesus joins love and obedience. He says, “If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love.” To our ears, love and command can sound opposed—one tender, the other demanding. Yet for Jesus, they are inseparable. His commands are not conditions to earn love but invitations to remain within it. Obedience is how love breathes; it is the posture of a heart shaped by grace.

Advent helps us see this love in motion. The love that spoke creation into being has now taken on flesh. In Jesus, divine love has a face, a voice, and nail-scarred hands. The Son who has forever dwelt in the Father’s delight entered our world so that we might share in that same love. Every command he gives comes from the same heart that stooped to wash his disciples’ feet and stretched out his arms upon the cross. He calls us to

remain in his love because he first came to remain with us.

And what is the fruit of this love and obedience? Joy. Jesus says he tells us these things “so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.” His aim is not mere duty but delight. The love of the Father, received in the Son and lived out through obedience, leads to an abundance of joy that nothing else can rival. The same joy that sustained Jesus through suffering is the joy he now shares with us—a joy that endures, deepens, and fills.

This is the promise of Advent: the Son of God came near so that his love might be ours and his joy might be full in us. To live in his love is to find life as it was meant to be. And in this season, we prepare our hearts to remain in that love: listening to his voice, walking in his ways, and trusting that the One who came for us also came to make our joy complete.

PRAYER

Lord Jesus, thank you for drawing us into the love you share with the Father. Teach us to remain in that love by walking in your ways. Fill us, even in this season of waiting for your return, with the joy that is complete in you. Amen.

LUKE 2:1-21 (NIV)

1 In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world.

2 (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) 3 And everyone went to their own town to register.

4 So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. 5 He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. 6 While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, 7 and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.

8 And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. 9 An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10 But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. 11 Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. 12 This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

13 Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

14 “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

15 When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”

16 So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. 17 When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, 18 and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. 19 But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. 20 The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.

21 On the eighth day, when it was time to circumcise the child, he was named Jesus, the name the angel had given him before he was conceived.