Let me tell you what Christmas really means to me as a Christian. And I do not mean the lights, the music, the crowded stores, or even the family dinners, though I love those things too. I mean the deeper thing. The quiet thing. The thing that settles into your heart when the noise fades and you remember why this season exists in the first place.
Christmas is God stepping into our world.
Not shouting from heaven. Not sending another prophet. Not issuing another set of rules. God came Himself. He entered humanity in the most unexpected way possible, as a baby, fragile, dependent, and small. That alone should stop us in our tracks. The Creator of the universe chose vulnerability. He chose diapers. He chose sleepless nights and the arms of a teenage mother who probably wondered more than once if she was really strong enough for this calling.
When I think about Christmas, I think about how close God wanted to be to us. Not distant. Not untouchable. Close enough to hear our breathing. Close enough to feel hunger, cold, joy, laughter, and sorrow. Emmanuel, God with us, is not just a poetic phrase. It is the heartbeat of Christmas.
And here is the part that always gets me. Jesus did not arrive in a palace. No royal procession. No golden cradle. He was born in a stable. That tells me something about God’s heart. He is not impressed with status. He is not drawn to power the way humans are. He comes to the humble places. The overlooked places. The places we might consider unworthy. Honestly, that gives me hope, because some days my life feels a lot more like a stable than a throne room.
Christmas tells us that God is not waiting for us to clean ourselves up before He shows up. He came right into the mess. Right into the noise. Right into a broken world that desperately needed light.
And what light it was.
The angels did not announce His birth to kings or religious elites. They went to the shepherds. Ordinary people doing ordinary work. That alone says something beautiful. Christmas is for everyone. Not just the polished. Not just the religious. Not just the ones who think they have it all together. It is for the tired. The overlooked. The ones out in the fields just trying to survive another day.
I imagine those shepherds standing there, hearts racing, wondering if they were dreaming. One moment, they were watching sheep. The next, heaven broke open. That is what Christmas does. It interrupts normal life and reminds us that God is nearer than we think.
Then there are the wise men. Travellers from far away, following a star, chasing something they could not fully explain but knew was worth finding. I love that part of the story because it mirrors so many of us. We are all searching in our own way and asking questions. Following clues. Hoping that somewhere along the road we will find truth, peace, or meaning. Christmas tells us that if we keep seeking, we will eventually find ourselves kneeling before grace.
Now let me say this gently, because it matters. Christmas is not just about a baby. It is about why that baby came. Jesus was born to die. That might sound heavy for a Christmas conversation, but it is the truth. The manger points to the cross. From the very beginning, God had redemption in mind. Love with a purpose. Grace with a plan.
Christmas is God saying, I see you. I know the weight you carry. I know the regrets you replay at night. I know the fears you never say out loud. And I am not staying distant from that pain. I am stepping into it.
For me, even at my old age, Christmas stirs up a lot of emotion. Gratitude. Awe. Sometimes tears. It reminds me that faith is not about trying harder or being better. It is about receiving a gift. And like all gifts, it cannot be earned. It can only be accepted.
And yes, I enjoy the laughter, the food, the traditions, and even the occasional awkward family moment. You know the ones. But beneath all of that is something sacred. A reminder that love came down. That hope took on flesh. That darkness did not get the final word.
So. when I look at Christmas through a Christian lens, I see a God who loves fiercely and humbly. A God who chose relationship over distance. A God who did not wait for us to climb up to Him, but came all the way down to us.
That is Christmas.
Not perfection. Not performance. Just God, reaching across the table, looking us in the eye, and saying, I am here. I always have been. And I always will be.
Have a blessed Christmas.
From my Heart to Yours.
RJ (Rox) Nolin