“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned…” (Isaiah 9:2)
Christmas is a season often synonymous with cheer, laughter, and a sort of overall positivity.
It’s a time when people gather with family and friends, exchange gifts, share meals, and speak of peace on earth.
But for many men, it’s a completely different story.
For them, this is a difficult season marked by pain and sorrow. Many men struggle in silence, suffocating in the breathlessness of despair. They carry burdens the world knows nothing about.
The world around them seems to sparkle with joy, yet inside, everything feels dim. These men feel like they’re standing in the middle of a celebration they can’t enter.
Maybe this year has been marked by loss, regret, disappointment, or exhaustion. Maybe you’ve run out of strength to “keep it together.”
My brother, if this is you…please keep reading. It is my prayer today that you are encouraged, if even a little bit, by what I have to say.
I want to remind you that the very first Christmas looked nothing like the dazzling lights and cheerful decorations that line our streets today.
The world Jesus entered was not merry or bright.
It was a time of silence from Heaven—four hundred years without a prophet’s voice, without a fresh word from God. Rome’s iron fist ruled the land with cruelty, and God’s people lived under heavy oppression. Poverty was rampant, injustice flourished, and hope for deliverance had all but completely faded.
The world Jesus entered was not merry or bright.
Many longed for a Messiah but had stopped believing He would ever come. Where was God? Generations had come and gone, still waiting for redemption. Their cry had become like the lament of the Psalmist, “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?” (Psalm 13:1). Like the prophet Habakkuk, they pleaded, “How long, Lord, must I call for help, but you do not listen?” (Habakkuk 1:2).
Can you feel their despair? Can you sense how dark those days were?
Have you ever felt that way?
The night of Christ’s birth was thick with both physical and spiritual darkness. And it was into that very night, into a weary and waiting world, that the true Light broke through (John 1:9).
The first Christmas didn’t happen in a glittering hall, but in the quiet shadow of hardship. When Jesus came, He didn’t arrive to the cheers of the masses in eager expectation. He came to a forgotten corner of the world where his family couldn’t even get a room.
Hope had come, not with the processional of a king, but with the cry of a newborn in a manger.
Hope entered the darkness quietly, because that’s how real hope works. It doesn’t always shout or shine; sometimes it simply arrives in the stillness, where the pain feels too deep and the sorrow too great.
Hope had come, not with the processional of a king, but with the cry of a newborn in a manger.
Yet that’s precisely where Jesus meets us. The same Savior who stepped into Israel’s silence now steps into ours.
But don’t mistake His humility for weakness.
The cries that pierced that cold Bethlehem night were the same voice that once spoke Creation into being.
The tiny hands that reached out into the darkness were the same hands that stretched out the heavens and flung the stars into place.
The breath that filled His infant lungs was the same breath that gave life to Adam in the beginning.
He who lay wrapped in humble cloth was, in truth, robed in eternal majesty. This child was the Ancient of Days.
And though He came quietly, His arrival shook the heavens.
Angels filled the skies with praise, foreign kings bowed before Him, and the powers of darkness trembled at His birth. This child was the King of Glory, the Lord of Hosts, the Commander of Heaven’s armies.
The One who stooped so low is the same One who now reigns so high. The One who came fulfilling over 400 Old Testament prophecies will come again, fulfilling His promise that, “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” (Revelation 21:4).
For now, we invite Him to enter our suffering, but one day, we will enter into His rest.
This is the unshakable hope of Christmas, the promise that the same Jesus who came in weakness will return in power. The manger was only the beginning. The story ends with a throne. The One who once lay in the straw will soon fully reign in splendor forever, and every affliction that ever plagued His children will be forever vanquished.
When your strength fails and your heart feels heavy, remember this.
Hope picks up where our strength runs out; it helps us endure and persevere even when we’ve come to the end of ourselves, because true hope is not found within, it’s not something we fight to keep alive, it isn’t something we strive to stir up.
No, true hope is what catches us when we can’t go on any further.
Hope is a Person, hope is a King, hope is a Savior, hope is a Deliverer. Jesus is our hope! He is the friend who sticks closer than a brother (Proverbs 18:24). He will never leave us or forsake us, and He says, “Look, I am coming soon! My reward is with me” (Revelation 22:12).
Brothers, do not give up. Hold fast. The dark night will not last forever.
The same Savior who entered our sorrow will return in glory. Until that day, let His light sustain you, His presence steady you, and His promise strengthen you.
For even now, the King is coming, and hope still lives.
This is Christmas.
About
