O Come Immanuel
A quiet moment in the house on my kindergartner’s school day during my toddler’s nap time. Breathing in the last Advent season in this little home of ours…wondering if we’ll be here on Christmas morning or in our new house. It almost seems, at this point, that it doesn’t matter. We have been learning hard over this last year that the only thing that really matters is that all our hope and meaning rests in the wounded and victorious hands of Jesus.
His victory is one that stands beyond our circumstances. What a fickle storm our circumstances can be. How thankful I am that my hope doesn’t rest in their wild, indiscriminate, uncertainty.
Rather, my JOY comes from my and my family’s gathered hope and anticipation for God’s steadfast love and faithful arrival—the memory of His long ago arrival on Christmas morning, His arrival here and now in our life journey, and His arrival once more—soon and very soon we hope indeed. O Come Immanuel!
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