In the middle of the carol, or the middle of the night; when the parties all are ended, and the sales all suspended; when our hearts are warmed by kindness never earned and not deserved—then we sense again the rescue that is Christmas. 

We were the people sitting in darkness, and on us the light has dawned. We were those aching for deliverance—from ourselves, from our stuff, from our sins, from our sadness. 

The gospel every Christmas—and each day throughout the year—is amazingly adapted to our shadows and our pain. For “the Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it” (John 1:5). For once—for now, forever —darkness doesn’t get to triumph. The empty will be filled; the broken will be healed. Eyes and minds will both be opened; icy hearts will start to melt. 

At Christmas, we recall that He was once delivered, and deliverance always is His plan. One tiny hand is stronger and more powerful than all the tyrants who have ruled. 

Never underestimate this Child: before Him every knee will bow—not only wise men and some shepherds. At Christmas, we may sing with joy what we will one day say anyway: “Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Phil 2:11).

Light grows. Hope rises. Grace will have the final word. 

So stay in grace.