Hi Friends,

At this point in our unusual Advent series, it’s clear that God has chosen to do things much differently than we would have.

And the announcement of Jesus’ birth is no different.

You and I, we probably would have shouted the announcement of His arrival in the palace of the king. All eyes and ears, give attention!

Or maybe we would have sent the message to the halls of the temple. Yes, it would be fitting to send word to the priests who spend their days in spiritual service to God.

But that night, the hallways of the temple and the corridors of the king remained silent.

For God took pleasure to send news of the birth of the Messiah to a very different audience:

His eyes landed on a few dusty shepherds on a hillside in Bethlehem.

One moment they watch over their sheep, perhaps lying by a fire in the pitch dark of the field. The next moment, they surge to their feet, then fall on their faces as brilliant light blinds their eyes.

Light unimaginable, heavenly choirs that even the most accomplished musical savants from all of human history would ache to hear — all this for a handful of men spending their time just doing what it took to make ends meet.

Most of the characters in the Advent storyline are named. Mary, Joseph, Elizabeth, Zechariah, John, Gabriel, Herod, Ceasar… but these shepherds, despite their major role, remain nameless. They are identified only by their job.

I wonder if this is where we are to find ourselves in the story.

Think about the work you do every single day. Maybe you love it — it’s your passion. Maybe it’s a bore, but it pays the bills. Either way, it’s become routine.

This is your normal life.

Sometimes in the church we tend to cast grandiose visions of what our lives are meant to be. Swelling words that hold urgency and impact and compulsion.

Some have answered altar calls to sign up for that greatness again and again and again.

Sometimes young people in the church are immobilized as they look at the future. They want to make a big impact for God. So what in the world should they do?

We put out fleeces and look for signs. We wring our hands and worry we might miss it.

Or we resign to being one who’s just not cut out for greatness.

Or we steep in shame for being among the not-fasting-enough or not-dedicated-enough… not enough, not enough, not enough.

But God silences those fears, that shame, when He pierces the night sky above the shepherds.

If I had to say what He is conveying in this detail, it might be this:

God loves your normal life.

You’re seemingly unimpressive, mostly blending in, doing what is needed to support your family, normal life. It’s enough.

God announces “good news of great joy, and it shall be for all people”.

Not just the special ones, not just the set-apart ones.

It’s for the shepherds working in the fields. It’s for you.

And perhaps His message to us is the same as it was to them. Right in the middle of this normalcy, go and find Him. Draw near and behold Him.

There’s so much to see and know of Him. Today, let’s start with this:

God loves your normal life.

–Anna

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