What I need is not that which I find, for what I need is far bigger than my ability to find it. What I need is that which finds me. Hence, Christmas.

Christmas is God handing us a dream that’s beyond our imagination and then gifting us with resources that are beyond our imagination so that we can make that dream real beyond our imagination.

The hand of God is wonderfully evident at those times when He pens stories whose lines we ourselves are far too fearful to pen or whose imaginations are far too limited to envision. And I would unashamedly suggest that the Christmas story is that very story.

Given the lethal enormity of sin and the inestimable value of a single soul, a baby in a manger and a man on a cross makes more sense that anything else I will ever be able to possibly imagine.

Is my faith so terribly pathetic that I have diminished God to the point that I doubt His ability to survive in the very world that He came to save? Indeed, I have done exactly that. And all I need to do to beat that mentality is to remember that a baby born in a manger with every disadvantage imaginable stills lives today.

The genius in Christmas is that it changes the trajectory of everything through a baby who was born into nothing. And if we have any shred of genius in us at all, it will be evidenced by our willingness to embrace that ‘everything’ out of our ‘nothing.

I suppose that Christmas seems vexingly improbable in my mind because God did something for all of mankind that I’m too selfish to do even for myself. But isn’t that the exact reason why we need Christmas?

The thing about Christmas is that it tells us that we are never alone. But even more, it tells us that we are always enough.

The ‘night before Christmas’ was in reality the last night before a forever morning.