Immanuel is the Reason

I love the good things about this time of year; temperatures drop, and the snow begins to fall, and joy and kindness demonstrations abound as folks pass through the streets. Compassion and kindness come out of hiding in December, and that’s what I love to see.

“It’s time for breakfast, sweetheart!” I heard my wife announce through my thoughts.

We had been married for almost one year, and this was to be our first Christmas together as a married couple. I was excited about our planned trip to Hawaii, but then the reality of both of our work schedules kicked in, and we were forced to postpone our trip. So instead of sunny, warm Hawaii for Christmas, we were stuck in cold, dreary Maryland. Of course, our families were excited, but I was not. I’m no Scrooge or Grinch, but I’m tired of the extravagance.

“Coming dear!” I responded as I stood from my desk.

I had been sitting there writing the sermon for tomorrow’s service before I got lost in my thoughts. I had been lead pastor of Greater Hope Church for five years. Unlike every other Sunday that I had preached, the words for the message were not coming to me. It was as though God had withheld His Spirit from my writing. I felt empty as I sat at that desknothing was in me, and nothing was coming to me. Marilyn could handle it, and that’s why she offered to cook breakfast for me at five a.m.. She was a beautiful woman, and I loved being with her, but this Christmas was different.

As I sat at the table, Marilyn came over and held my hand as she led us in grace. When she finished, she smiled and gestured for me to eat. I was starving because I had barely grazed the night before, but my mind would not allow my hands to move or my mouth to chew.

“You have to eat, Judah,” she said lovingly, “this will help you as you go into the study.”

I closed my eyes and saw my parents again. They always appeared in my dreams and comforted me as I slept. This time, however, they were dressed up came running to me.

“Judah; you’re late!” Momma fussed.“Son, we’ve got to go; hurry up!” Pops added.

“Late? Late for what? Where are we going?” I asked.

“We are going to see Mary; she and her family are expecting us so we must hurry,” said Momma.

When we arrived, I noticed that we were at a modest home in the country. I thought we were overdressed, but Momma assured me that we were “dressed to meet a King.” We knocked at the door and a beautiful woman, young and warm, opened the door. She extended her arm and invited us into her home. Her home greeted us with a sweet aroma of baked goods and love. Next, her husband welcomed us and led us to a back room where a baby lay in a small bassinet.

“Here is He that you have come to see,” the husband said as he walked towards the door, leaving us alone with the baby.

Immediately I understood where we were and just Who that baby was. It was Immanuel, the Son of God, and the couple was Mary and Joseph, His earthly parents. As I sat there acknowledging my location, my parents spoke in soft tones to the baby King, and I heard Him cooing as they talked. Just as I was about to pray to Him, I felt a soft tug on my shoulder.

“Judah, honey, it’s time for you to get ready for church.” I heard Marilyn say. “You fell asleep here last night, but now it’s time for service.”

I had slept through the night, but I had not written a message for service.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” I said to her as I brought her in for a kiss. She smiled and wished me the same. We both knew that our Christmas celebration wouldn’t start until after church, so we dressed and departed.

As I sat in the pulpit, visions from my dream danced in my mind, and I felt the Spirit send me His word for the sermon. Even though this was my first time speaking without a prewritten sermon, I trusted God to carry the word.

“Tis the season, beloved, because Immanuel is the reason…” I began with clarity and comfort. As I spoke, I saw my parents nodding, as Mary held a bubbling Immanuel in her arms. Immanuel was pleased as I shared with the congregation the truth of His birth.

Driving home, I told Marilyn everything. She sang praises to our God. This Christmas was unlike any other that I had ever experienced and I will carry that dream in my heart until the day that I see Him again.