It’s a little word, one we don’t think about much.

But today, it’s the word that captures for me the whole story of Christmas.

The whole story of life.


It’s a joining word, a connector.


God with us.

With in the joy and celebration of permanence, of forever family done and done.

With in the endless chatter and toy-strewn house and perennial sleep deprivation that is toddlerhood.

With in the moody angst and pointed words and wishful independence that is pre-teenagerhood.

With in the job that I once loved but now leaves me feeling exhausted, angry and incompetent every day.

With in the silent death of little dreams, the little griefs that feel too silly to even name.

With in the vast expanse of adventure ahead, all shiny and wide and possible.

God with us.

Why does this matter?

Because this Word that was with God in the beginning (John 1:1) had to be with us.

Therefore he had to become like his brothers and sisters in every respect, so that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make a sacrifice of atonement for the sins of the people.

(Hebrews 2:17)

The Word made flesh had to be with us to bridge the gap.

The gaping chasm between a holy God and broken, rebellious, decidedly unholy humanity.

Broken, rebellious, decidedly unholy me.

This is the story of grace.

The story of Christmas.  And Easter.  And every single day.

This is the story that changes everything.

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