Day

11

“In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus who,

being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to

his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a

servant, being made in human likeness.

Philippians 2:5–7

 

Christmas always reminds me that Jesus didn’t just come to be our Savior; He came to

be close to us. He came quietly, humbly, and in a way no one expected. He could have

arrived with power, armies, and trumpets. He could have made sure every eye was on

Him from the start. Instead, He came as a baby in a regular family, in a regular place,

with parents who were probably exhausted and overwhelmed (relatable). That’s who

our God is. He draws near.

 

Philippians tells us something simple but honestly a little challenging:

Have the same attitude as Jesus.

 

Every time I read that, especially around Christmas, I think, “Okay, Lord… but have You

met my family?” I say that jokingly, but only a little. Because as much as I love the

Christmas season, the lights, the music, the sentimental chaos, it also brings out some

of the most unfiltered, unedited versions of all of us.

 

There’s the anticipation, the planning, the cooking (so much cooking), the kids bouncing

off walls, furniture, and possibly reality, fueled entirely by sweets (I have none, but I

imagine it’s like this), the last-minute errands, the family members who show up early,

the ones who show up late, and the ones who show up with opinions you didn’t ask for.

It’s loud, it’s messy, it’s wonderful… and sometimes, it’s a little overwhelming just to

picture.

 

But that’s why Philippians hits differently this time of year. Jesus didn’t step into a

peaceful, picture-perfect scene either. He stepped into real life, into noise,

unpredictability, and need. He stepped into a world that didn’t have room for Him

(literally), yet He came anyway. He made room for us. He opened Himself to our

humanity, our need, our mess, and invited us into His grace.

 

And when I think about that, it makes me wonder if this season invites me to do the

same. Not in dramatic, life-changing ways, just in the ordinary, everyday, mundane

moments with the people right in front of me. The “I almost forgot this is the whole point”

moments.

 

  • Maybe it means slowing down and really listening to someone. Not half-listening while thinking about the next task but actually paying attention to the person who’s talking.
  • Maybe it means choosing kindness instead of winning an argument. Even if you could prove your point (and believe me, I love being right), sometimes laying it down creates more peace than “winning” ever could.
  • Maybe it looks like lending a hand the moment you see the opportunity.Not waiting to be asked. Just noticing, then doing.
  • Maybe it’s meeting someone’s stress with understanding instead of Frustration. Sure, some folks are being difficult. But responding with calm instead of matching their energy can keep things from spiraling.
  • Maybe it’s slowing down enough to actually be present, with a peaceful heart instead of a rushed one.Not trying to make everything perfect. Not trying to control every detail. Just being there. Fully. Calmly.

 

What I LOVE about Jesus’ humility is that it isn’t complicated. It isn’t something we need

a theology degree to understand (though it can help). It’s simple, practical, and

incredibly human. It looks like patience. It looks like service. It looks like showing up with

gentleness, even when we’re over-it, or wondering why Christmas felt more magical

when we were five.

 

Loving others isn’t “one size fits all.” Different relationships ask different things

from us.

 

There are people in our lives who are easier to be patient with, usually the ones we

don’t see every day. It’s not hard to be polite to the stranger at Target. It’s not hard to

smile at the coworker who only asks how you’re doing once a month. Those

relationships are a “light lift,” emotionally speaking. No history, no expectations, no

baggage.

 

But the people we’re closest to? The ones who know how to read our facial expressions

a little too well. The ones who have seen us tired, stressed, hungry, annoyed, and still

wearing the same sweatshirt from Tuesday. Yeah. They can require a different level of

humility. Not because we don’t love them, but because real life happens in those

relationships. Those are the people who see our unfiltered selves. And honestly, we see

theirs too. Which means those connections take more intentional gentleness, and

sometimes more grace than we expected to need.

 

Jesus loved people up close, face to face, moment by moment, need by need. And

Christmas is the reminder that He loved us enough to come all the way down to where

we are at our level. He stepped into every kind of relationship. The people He barely

knew, the ones who misunderstood Him, the ones closest to Him, and the ones who 

needed Him most. He didn’t love only the easy people. He loved all of them with

patience and humility that we’re still trying to wrap our minds around.

 

Christmas reminds us that He came right into the middle of real life, into the mess, the

noise, the family dynamics, the exhaustion, the expectations, and the people. He came

close to us at ground level. And because He came close, we can choose to come close

to one another, too, whether it’s the people who are easy for us or the people who

stretch us a little (or a lot). We can show up with His kind of love, His kind of patience,

and His kind of humility.

 

May our homes this season be full of the same warmth, gentleness, and kindness that

Jesus brought when He stepped into ours.

 

Merry Christmas from Caitlyn & Shon Cornwell

Caitlyn Cornwell