This one word has followed me around this advent season. And to be honest, it has been following me around for most of this past year.

Emmanuel.  God with us. 

It seems fitting here as I gaze out the window at the beautiful fresh fallen snow on the ground. As I watch the snow flakes continue to fall onto the painted white ground. In the advent season, the days leading up to our Savior’s birth, the name Emmanuel is heard often. As we read scripture verses, as we sing hymns, it’s repeated over and over. And we think of the tiny newborn baby coming to be…with us. His amazing grace all wrapped up in swaddling clothes, laying in a manger. The first time Jesus is with us.

Where I didn’t expect to find Emmanuel was in the hot, dry heat of Zambia, Africa. The name Emmanuel doesn’t seem like it belongs in a desert. Hanging there dry & dusty without a trace of snow or mistletoe. Seems like an awkward place for it. But just as he made his entry into this world in a way we least expected, he met me on the warm soil of Africa in a way I least expected.

We were up bright & early to make our way to a village to pass out shoes with Soles For Jesus. To tell the truth the trip had taken a bit of a toll on my “mama heart” and I was missing my kids. Which I wrestled with because here I was amidst so many children who had so little and I was here to help. To love on them. To share God’s love with them. To bring them shoes. This wasn’t the time to thinking about my own kids. I opened the van door and walked out to where a group of people had already started assembling. And that’s when I saw him. This little boy running straight towards me, arms open wide. I had just enough time to crouch down and open my arms wide as he jumped up into them. And there he sat. Holding me. Arms around my neck. And he was in no hurry to leave. So I stood up and walked around with him, head on my shoulders, arms around my neck. Like he was my very own. He didn’t move for probably 15 minutes. The way he drew his body up into a big ball and wrapped his legs tight around me reminded me so much of my son Levi who I dubbed my “spider monkey” years ago. It was like therapy just holding him. Later I learned his name. Emmanuel. God with us. 

The rest of the day was met with this same name over and over agin. I couldn’t escape it.  It seemed every time I asked a person their name their response was the same: Emmanuel.

His very personal way of reminding me that he was with me.

And he whispers the same today. To me and to you. To all.

He is our God and he is with us.

He’s with us through the joyous times and the discouraging times.

He’s with us through loss. Unimaginable, heart breaking, staggering loss.

He’s with us through the hurt and pain of rejection.

He’s with us through the bumps and bruises of parenting.

He’s with us when we’re feeling like we’ve got things handled pretty well and he’s with us when we can feel life unraveling around us.

It doesn’t matter where we are or where we go. It doesn’t matter if it’s Christmas time or we’re on the African plains.

He is with us.

He came to be with us. He desires to have a relationship with us.  He came to share His love with us. And his heart desire is for us to share that love with others.

I pray that throughout this next year we would truly understand the holy weight of the word Emmanuel. God is with us. I think it just might change everything.

 “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”). Matthew 1:23