In the Ordinary
I saw a meme the other day of a man gazing lovingly at his Christmas tree with the caption, “Now until December 25th.” The next picture showed the same man staring at the same tree in disgust, captioned, “December 26th.”
I laughed out loud because I knew exactly what it meant. I love the decorations and all the Christmas festivities right up until December 25th, but once Boxing Day arrives, you’ll find me stripping the house of everything red and festive. I like to begin the New Year with a home that looks as if Christmas never happened.
In thinking about Advent, I realized that I need to be careful not to do the same thing with Jesus.
The word “Advent” literally means “Coming.” We spend the four weeks leading up to Christmas longing for His coming—waiting, expecting, hoping, and wondering in the mystery.
Then Christmas Day arrives, and we gleefully exclaim, “He’s here! Emmanuel has come! God is with us!” Only to head right back into our daily lives the next day, with the odd feeling that it was a delightful diversion from normal life, but nothing more.
This is one of the main reasons I fell in love with the idea of the church calendar in the first place—it makes room for the continuation of celebration. Christmas Day on the church calendar is a momentous occasion that lasts for twelve more days. At the end of those twelve days, we reach Epiphany, where we celebrate the wise men arriving to worship Jesus.
It’s easy to forget just how extraordinary it was that the wise men came to worship Jesus, especially since the story has become so familiar. They were not Jews, and Jesus had yet to teach His people the mystery of the Gentiles being co-heirs with the Jews. This was a foreshadowing of the greater mystery to come.
Assuming most of you reading this are my church family, take a moment to consider that you are not Jewish. The mystery revealed through the wise men reminds us that we were once outsiders—but now, through Christ, we have been fully adopted as sons and daughters into God’s family.
After Advent, hold on to the wonder—the mystery of being adopted into His family, the awe of His coming. Our days feel ordinary, even mundane, and God seems distant. Yet He walks into the quiet, the chaos, the everyday mess—bringing the unimaginable close to us. He is Emmanuel—GOD WITH US.
As John said a few weeks ago: not God beside us, or around us, or over us—but WITH US. Don’t rush past Advent and Christmas without lingering in the mystery of God choosing to live our everyday lives with us. The same God who created the universe, who holds nations in His hands, and who sustains the fragile balance that makes life possible, is also the God who walks with you down the grocery store aisles on an ordinary Tuesday.
He is not distant or reserved for holy moments alone. He is present in the unnoticed spaces of our lives—in long lines, weary prayers, and the small acts of faithfulness that no one else sees—gently reminding us that Emmanuel is still God with us. The depth of our relationship with Him is shaped by how deeply we allow this mystery to take root in our souls.
When we keep God at arm’s length—honouring Him only as the Creator of the universe, but not welcoming Him as the One who guides how we spend an unexpected $100 or nudges us to make a difficult phone call—we miss the true blessing of Emmanuel, God with us.
He wants to be with you. He wants you to talk to Him. He wants you to rely on Him. He wants your identity to be rooted in how much He wants to be with you.
He’s wildly in love with you. Don’t keep Him at arm’s length.
Let Him be Emmanuel.
Written by:
Amy Schaffner
