In this Christmas season, many images fill our minds: a glowing manger, angels singing, shepherds watching in awe. But when we look more closely at the nativity story, we see something even more personal: a family far from home, bearing the weight of obedience, waiting in the unknown. Mary and Joseph were not in their hometown. They were displaced not by choice, but by decree. Their journey to Bethlehem was long, uncomfortable, and likely filled with questions. There was no room for them in the inn. No family nearby. No welcome waiting. And yet right there, in a place they didn’t expect, God arrived. Not in the comfort of Nazareth. Not surrounded by extended family. But in a borrowed stable, under a foreign sky. This is the mystery of Christmas: God draws near in the most uncertain places. He is not only the God of the temple. He is the God of the travel-weary. The God of the border-crossers. The God of families who feel out of place. And so, if you find yourself far from home this December, adapting to new languages, working long hours, carrying responsibilities that few see, take heart: you are not forgotten. You are exactly the kind of person to whom Christmas first came.

The child born in Bethlehem is called Emmanuel, “God with us.”

Not just “God above us” or “God watching us,” but God right here with us in the middle of the mess, in the middle of the unfamiliar.

This is what Advent means: God is still coming close. Not just in December. Not just in churches. But in kitchens, workplaces, buses, and bedrooms   wherever hearts are longing for His peace. This season, I invite you to pause not because life slows down, but because your soul needs to. Make room again for Christ, even if the only space you have is small. Offer Him your uncertainty. Your tiredness. Your hopes. That is what He came for. And let me say gently: you do not have to walk through this season alone. Our church is more than a service. It is a spiritual home. A Bethlehem   where Christ is being born in lives again. Where your family can find warmth, prayer, and belonging, whether you are single or married, young or old, new or seasoned   you are welcome here. Come. Let your Christmas begin not with shopping or lights, but with a deep awareness that God is here with you, for you, among us. This is the gospel. This is the hope. This is Christmas.

 Join us this Sunday as we celebrate the One who came near and still comes near today. Your seat is waiting. Your story matters. Welcome home.