The Eve Before
All returned to their own ancestral towns to register for this census. And because Joseph was a descendant of King David, he had to go to Bethlehem in Judea, David’s ancient home. He traveled there from the village of Nazareth in Galilee. He took with him Mary, to whom he was engaged, who was now expecting a child.
And while they were there, the time came for her baby to be born. She gave birth to her firstborn son. She wrapped him snugly in strips of cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no lodging available for them. Luke 2:3-7
As a child, I cherished the night before Christmas, filled with anticipation and wonder. I would do my best to stay awake, hoping to catch a glimpse of Santa Claus bringing gifts into the Christmas Room, which was the coldest room in our house, reserved for this special occasion. My parents must have known that no child would brave that room except on Christmas, and though I never managed to stay up long enough to see Santa, there was one year when I noticed my dad come upstairs in the early morning and found the gifts waiting for us afterward. It took me years to make the connection! Looking back, what mattered was not the gifts or the traditions themselves. It was the appreciation for those moments, the excitement before the day, the joy that followed, and the simple gratitude for being together and experiencing the wonder of Christmas as a family.
It has been great to see a renewed spirit of Christmas. Although some of this enthusiasm may be for the wrong reasons, there remains a genuine feeling of appreciation for the opportunity to celebrate the birth of Christ. This reflection suggests an interesting thought: before the birth of Christ, there was nothing particularly significant about Christmas Eve. The meaning and joy we associate with Christmas are tied to this momentous event. Yet, to those who came before then, nothing changed until then.
Luke tells the story of that moment with a quiet simplicity that almost feels too ordinary for something so world changing. No announcement to the powerful. No grand stage. Just a young couple, a crowded town, and a child laid in a feeding trough. Yet unbeknownst to all, everything was about to change in that quiet moment.
That is part of what makes the birth of Jesus so profound. God did not enter the world with spectacle, but with vulnerability. He did not arrive with force, but with trust. He did not come to impress, but to be present. And in doing so, He gave human life a new kind of meaning. Every ordinary moment now carries the opportunity to share in the Good News. Every life, no matter how small or unnoticed, matters deeply to God. It was seemingly nothing, and yet, it changed everything.
This is where appreciation begins to take on a deeper shape. We often appreciate life when it feels full, successful, or joyful. But the birth of Jesus invites us to appreciate life simply because it is given. God chose to enter our world not at its best, but as it was: messy, crowded, imperfect, and human. This is not dissimilar to where we are today. That tells us something important about how God sees us. Not as problems to be fixed first, but as people to be loved now.
John later reflects on this when he writes, “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14). God did not stand at a distance. He stepped into our experience. He learned hunger, fatigue, joy, sorrow, friendship, and loss. He walked our roads and sat at our tables. He wept with those who wept and rejoiced with those who rejoiced. The birth of Jesus is not only the beginning of redemption. It is God’s declaration that our lives are worth stepping into.
That truth should change how we see ourselves and each other. If God chose to take on human life, then human life is not small. It is not disposable. It is not meaningless. It is sacred. Not because it is perfect, but because God has drawn near to it. When we appreciate our lives through that lens, gratitude becomes less about circumstances and more about presence. Less about what we have, and more about who walks with us.
Paul captures this when he says, “In him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28). Our lives are not just something we manage. They are something we are entrusted with. Every breath, every relationship, every opportunity to love, forgive, grow, and begin again is a quiet gift that flows from that first gift. God giving Himself to us in Jesus.
Christmas is not only a time to celebrate a birth long ago, but a time to re-learn how to appreciate our own lives now. Not because everything is easy or bright, but because everything is held. We are to humble ourselves to a God who knows what it is to be human, and with all its trials, pain, and suffering, chose it anyway. On this Christmas Eve, let us thank God. Thank Him for choosing to enter our world in Jesus. Thank Him for showing us that our lives matter, not in perfection but in reality. Thank Him for helping us see our life and the lives of those around us as sacred gifts.
Where have you been rushing past the gift of your own life? What ordinary moments might God be quietly present in right now? My prayer is we live with deeper gratitude, gentler awareness, and a quieter joy rooted in God’s presence. Amen, and Merry Christmas.