It's December 1st, the beginning of Advent. The time when lights twinkle and bells jingle. The time when night lingers and stars glimmer. Advent is an announcement. You’ve heard it before. The songs proclaim it, the lights point to it, and the gifts reflect it. He’s here. We’re giddy with excitement. We’re drenched in hope. It’s the arrival of the one we’ve been waiting for. The one the prophets foretold, the one the angels proclaimed, the one the shepherds adored, and the one the wind and waves obeyed — He’s finally here. The good news of Christmas — our long-awaited Immanuel has come.
Immanuel. It means God is with us. What do these words mean to a heart trampled by grief? What do these words mean to a soul ravaged by sin? From the opening pages of Genesis to the final words of Revelation, God’s plan to dwell with His people was never a secret. He announced His own arrival long before the shepherds heard the angelic choir on that starry night. But why? How? Why does God want to dwell with us? How would He make it possible?
Have you ever paused in the bustle of the season to wonder at the magnitude of this promise? Have you ever asked the same question Solomon asked after building the temple, the very dwelling place of God’s presence? “But will God indeed dwell on the earth?” (1 Kings 8:27). His question echoes through the ages. Is it truly possible? At the same time, his doubt resounds through the darkness. Is He here? If so, then where? Where is He when the twinkle of lights grows dim in the shadow of sorrow? Where is He when the bells don’t ring with joy but clang with the reminder of what we’ve lost? Will God indeed dwell on the earth — with weary, broken, hope-drained hearts?
Beyond belief, the answer is yes. He will, and He has.
What does it mean that Immanuel has come? Why does it matter that God is with us? For some, it might bring comfort. Does God truly come down to be with us in our pain? If so, why doesn’t he do something to stop the hurt, or better yet, prevent it? For others, it might bring dread. The presence of a holy God demands a holy people. What will this require us to give up?
It’s far easier to sing about falling snow than to surrender on fallen knees.
We first see the word dwell in Exodus 25:8. God is about to give Moses instructions on how to build the Tabernacle. He says, “Let them make me a sanctuary, that I may dwell in their midst.”
The Hebrew word for dwell is shâkan, which means to to abide, to reside, to inhabit. It can also mean to tabernacle, settle down, or permanently stay.
Do you see it? The glimmer of hope? The spark of light? God wanted to permanently stay with His people. This wasn’t a weekend getaway or a stop along the way. He wanted to move in and settle down.
It’s December 1st, the beginning of Advent. He’s here. For some, hope is stirring. For others, joy is awakening. Maybe for you, doubt is rising. Is it possible? Will He really dwell on earth? With us?
God is moving in and settling down. The real question is … are we ready for our hearts and lives to be interrupted by His arrival?
That was a great December 1 devotional, Melissa! Thank you!