GOD WITH US
I am extremely clumsy. I should not be allowed to legally walk in public places — it’s a matter of safety. One evening, while I was cleaning my office, I managed to bump into my shelf. This triggered a chain reaction where everything began falling off the shelf and smashing onto the floor. I noticed one very important possession begin to wobble. Thus, I threw myself towards the avalanche of stuff and tried to grab this floral-print teacup. My adrenaline was pumping, so I wasn’t managing my limbs super well. When my hand made it to the teacup, I essentially just swatted it towards the ground. Like a volleyball player with a perfect set-up, I spiked the glass towards the ground. Shards flew everywhere like confetti at a dangerous birthday party.
The teacup broke — and I broke down. Yeah, I cried.
Let me explain. It wasn’t because of value, this thing was probably worth a couple bucks. This teacup belonged to my grandmother. Thus, it carried a lot of emotional baggage with it. When I saw that antique shatter, I could see hundreds of memories of her flash before the cinema in my brain.
People think it’s weird that I get so choked up over a grandparent passing. They’re like, “Grandparents die, that’s how life works.”
Sure, it’s common. That doesn’t mean it’s not painful.
My grandmother was my best friend.
She lived in the room next-door to me most of my life — she was like a cool roommate that knew a lot about WWII.
She saw great things in me.
She encouraged me to chase my dreams.
She gave the best advice.
She would let me watch tv with her when I couldn’t sleep.
One night she helped me study for an exam in Biology. All her quizzing didn’t help — I just couldn’t memorize all the bones in the body. She knew I was nervous, so when I walked out of the room she told me that “regardless of how you do, I am proud of you.”
She died the next morning — during my exam.
READ: Matthew 1:23
“The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him “Immanuel” (which means God with us).”
While I was sitting in the hospital food court, I didn’t reflect on the normal “dealing with loss” scripture — I read the Christmas story. I wanted to be reminded of just how messy Jesus’ life started. I wanted to meditate on the miracle that God became flesh. The Christmas story illustrates a life-changing truth — Jesus does not always take away your pain, but He does promise that you’ll never go through it alone.
When the angel announced the birth of Jesus, he instructed Mary that “you will call his name Immanuel.” Immanuel translates to “God with us.” Most Bibles will even tell you this definition within the text and they don’t do that with many words. So that’s important, it illustrates the emphasis this name deserves.
Let me assure you of this — you are not alone. You will never be alone. God is with you. God came into this world as Jesus. He walked the same earth as us. He experienced loss, pain, hunger, acne, anger, and probably even traffic (Jerusalem always seemed to have a little congestion in the streets). We must remember that Jesus is with us. Whatever you are going through right now, I want you to know that God is with you. He is there for you. You do not have to face anything alone.
This is my encouragement to your group. Everyone shut their eyes, take a deep breath, and collectively pray to Immanuel — God with us. Strive to feel Him with you right now. Jesus is as close to you as your next breath.