There’s a question that sits quietly in the back of most of our minds, even when we don’t say it out loud: Does God actually see me? Does He know what I’m walking through? Is He really here, or am I just hoping He is?
We can believe all the right theology, quote all the right verses, and still wrestle with that ache, the longing to know, not just intellectually but in the depths of our souls, that we are not alone.
And then Christmas comes.
The Longing for God’s Presence
Not the version we see in commercials or on perfectly curated social media feeds. I’m talking about the real Christmas—the one the Bible gives us. The one where God looked at humanity’s deepest need and didn’t send a formula, didn’t send a set of rules, didn’t even send an angel with better instructions.
He came Himself.
That’s the miracle we celebrate. Emmanuel. God with us. Not God near us, not God watching us from a distance—God with us. In the mess. In the mundane. In the middle of our real, complicated, broken lives.
Emmanuel: God With Us
Think about what that means for a moment. The God who created galaxies, who holds the universe together by the power of His word, who lacks nothing and needs nothing—He chose to become a baby. Vulnerable. Dependent. Fully human. He didn’t enter the world in a palace surrounded by comfort and power. He entered in a stable, with animals and straw and the smell of livestock, born to an unwed teenage mother in a nowhere town that nobody thought mattered.
God chose proximity over prestige. He chose presence over power. He chose close.
And He did it because that’s what love does. Love doesn’t stay distant. Love doesn’t send instructions from afar and hope we figure it out. Love shows up. Love enters in. Love makes itself known not through grand pronouncements but through presence—steady, personal, undeniable presence.
What the Incarnation Means for You Today
The Incarnation is God’s clearest statement about how much He values relationship with you. If He was willing to go to that length—to leave heaven, to take on human flesh, to experience hunger and exhaustion and temptation and pain—just to be close to you, then how much more is He present with you now?
You are not alone in your struggle. You are not alone in your questions. You are not alone in the middle of the night when anxiety grips your chest and you wonder how you’re going to make it through. You are not alone when you’re navigating hard relationships, financial stress, health battles, or the weight of responsibilities that feel too heavy to carry.
Emmanuel means God is with you in all of it.
This Christmas season, I want to invite you to do something countercultural. Instead of rushing through the chaos, the to-do lists, the expectations, and the noise—pause. Create space to experience His nearness.
It doesn’t have to be elaborate. It doesn’t require perfect quiet or hours of uninterrupted time. It can be five minutes in your car before you walk into the house. It can be a moment in the morning with your coffee and your Bible. It can be a whispered prayer while you’re wrapping presents or driving to yet another gathering.
Just pause and acknowledge: God, You are here. You are with me. You see me. You know me. And You chose to be close.
Read the Christmas story again, but this time, let it be personal. Let it speak to your specific life, your specific needs, your specific heartache. When you read about the shepherds who were terrified and the angel said, “Do not be afraid”—hear that for you. When you read about Mary, who said yes to God even though she didn’t understand the full picture, let that encourage you in your own surrender. When you read about Jesus being born in the least likely place, let that remind you that God shows up in the places we least expect, in the moments we think are too ordinary or too messy for Him to care about.
He cares. He’s present. He’s close.
And here’s the beautiful tension of Christmas: God being “with us” doesn’t mean everything suddenly gets easy. Emmanuel didn’t eliminate hardship, Jesus Himself faced rejection, betrayal, suffering, and death. But His presence changes everything. It means we don’t walk through hard things alone. It means there’s a steady hand holding ours, a voice whispering truth when the lies get loud, a peace that doesn’t make sense given our circumstances but holds us anyway.
How to Experience His Nearness This Christmas
This week, I want to challenge you to practice His presence.
Choose one moment each day…just one…where you intentionally acknowledge that God is with you. Speak it out loud if you need to. Write it down. Let it become more real than the stress you’re feeling or the chaos swirling around you.
“God, You are with me right now. Emmanuel. You are here.”
That’s not denying reality. That’s anchoring yourself in the deepest reality of all: the God of the universe loves you enough to be close.
That’s Christmas. That’s the gift. Not just a story we tell once a year, but a truth we get to live every single day.
He came. He’s here. And He’s not going anywhere.
Merry Christmas.