In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration when Quirinius was governor of Syria.And all went to be registered, each to his own town. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the town of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, to be registered with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn."

Luke 2:1-7

The Gospel of Luke tells us that “in those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be enrolled.” We know the familiar story that Joseph went up from Nazareth to Bethlehem with Mary, who was expecting her first child so they could take part in a national

census.

There, in a crowded town with no room to spare, Mary gave birth to her son. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

So much of the Christmas story is wrapped in simplicity:

• a rough stable,

• a feeding trough for a cradle,

• the sounds (and smells) of farm animals

• and the humblest of beginnings for the Savior of the world.

Yet in the quiet beauty of that moment lies something precious—something greater than any palace or treasure could have provided.

The Son of God was not born into financial riches, but into love.

He came into the arms of a mother who adored Him and a father who protected Him. Mary and Joseph had little in material wealth, but their hearts were full of devotion. The stable may have been cold and dim, but in that place, love glowed brighter than any star outside.

The Gift of Loving Parents

This Christmas, many of us are feeling the ache of absence. There may be empty chairs around our tables, quiet spaces where once there was laughter, or faces we long to see but can only remember. For some, this will be the first Christmas without a parent’s voice on the other end of the phone or without the familiar traditions that made the season special.

It’s in moments like these that Luke’s gospel takes on new depth. When we imagine Mary

cradling her newborn son, we see not only the miracle of the Incarnation but also the simple and sacred beauty of a parent’s love.

The Savior of the world—fully God, yet fully human—was born into the warmth of human arms. He was comforted by His mother’s touch and sheltered by His earthly father’s care.

How fortunate it is to be loved in such a way—to have known hands that held you when you cried, voices that spoke your name with tenderness, and eyes that shone with pride when you accomplished something good. Those who loved us, guided us, and prayed for us gave us more than we often realize. And though time may separate us for a while, love like that does not fade. It lives on in our memories, in the lessons they taught us, and in the love we now share with others.

God, the Giver of Every Good Gift

The book of James tells us that “every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights.” So every kindness we’ve ever received, every warm embrace, every word of encouragement, every smile that told us we mattered—all of it originated from the Creator of the universe.

When our parents held us, it was God who gave them the strength to do so. When they guided us, it was God who gave them wisdom. When they sacrificed for us, it was God who poured His own love through them into our lives.

So even when those who once loved us have gone home to the Lord, the source of that love remains. The same God who gave us parents to care for us is still giving. Still loving. Still holding.

A Christmas of Gratitude

This Christmas may look different from those before. The table may be smaller, the laughter quieter, the memories sharper around the edges. But even in the stillness, we have reason to rejoice.

For the God who chose to be born in a manger also chose to be born into a family.

He understands love. He understands feeling abandoned by friends. He understands loss--and He is the One who turns our mourning into gratitude and our gratitude into hope.

So as we celebrate the birth of Christ, let us thank God for those who once cradled us in their arms and shaped us with their love. Let us remember that their tenderness was one of His finest gifts. And let us rest in the assurance that the same God who gave us those good gifts still surrounds us with His everlasting arms. He’s not done with you.

Even when chairs around us may be empty, His presence still fills the room.

Joey Smith