a Christmas of anticipating Emmanuel
Hey lovelies! I’m so excited to introduce you to Hannah, our guest author today.
This lady has a zest for life, dives deep into friendship and community and loves to engage with others!
Adventurous and passionate, ready with a smile and a warm hello, Hannah’s kindness and care for you shines through the moment you walk in her door.
In this post Hannah shares of a Christmas of anticipating Emmanuel.
Something I anticipate most about the day after Thanksgiving (okay maybe even mid November) is turning on the radio and hearing glorious 1950’s Christmas music. Bing Crosby. Eartha Kitt. Elvis Presley. Winter Wonderland, Santa Baby (admit it, we love it), Blue Christmas.
This year, however, I’m drawn to the nearly ancient Christmas carols.
Think O’ Come All Ye Faithful and O Little Town of Bethlehem.The depth and seriousness of these hymn-like carols quiet my soul, cultivating a somber anticipation of the Christ-birth celebration.
The carol that’s been surfacing the most in my mind and on my Spotify playlist is O Come O Come Emmanuel, certain lyrics soaring to my attention above others:
“O Come Thou Dayspring, from on high, and cheer us by they drawing nigh;
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night, And death’s dark shadows put to flight.
O Come Thou key of David,come and open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high, and close the path to misery.
Rejoice!
Rejoice!
Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel”
Drawing nigh. Dark shadows put to flight. home. safe.
Thursday, November 8th, I sit in my living room, playing with my 1 year old son Sheamus on the floor. We stack blocks, my mind processing the Thousand Oaks shooting at a Country line-dancing bar a few miles away.
My husband, Matt, and I had just days before talked about visiting there again, maybe after Christmas.
The father of shooting victim Cody Coffman processes live on KTLA the news of his first born son found a victim of the shooting. Gone.
Tears rush and I reach for my own first born son, grief not feeling so far away, but rather close.
Not an hour after this moment, I step outside to see the hills between myself and Malibu red with fire, heavy with smoke.
A mixture of panic and confusion flush my cheeks — what is happening? Where is this coming from? Who started it? When will it be contained? Do we evacuate? Where do we go?
So many questions, and the answers are slow coming, if coming at all.
On the Sunday following these tragedies, the word “hope” is spoken in my church.
I hold back, hesitant. I don’t think I’m ready to hope yet, it feels too soon. It feels wrong or like I’m robbing the time grief and sadness requires.
I’m not sure if I can trust “hope”— she let me down November 7th and 8th. I’m not feeling safe, I feel exposed and vulnerable.
In the middle of all these thoughts, a dear friend of mine sends a note, “One morning you wake up and there’s a little green in the char…” It’s hard to picture in the present freshness of the scorched hills and the ache of grieving lost lives.
Even so, her words do comfort me. I can’t help but hope.
The hills grew back after the 2013 fire, and they will grow back again. A little green in the char. Growth. Healing. Life.
What does Emmanuel have to do with all of this?
This is where the rest of the carol comes in.
Emmanuel means “God with us”.
That’s Jesus, God’s message to humanity, sent to us. Everything he wants to communicate to me, to you, is through Jesus.
I find it intriguing that the first message God chooses to communicate to us through Jesus is that he wants to be with us — as a human, as a baby, shoulder to shoulder with us.
That’s what I’ve seen to be the most hope-filling for this community: gathering together in each others homes, at a local pizza parlor to remember Cody Coffman, at local gyms to workout together, at local Churches and shelters.
Being together. Serving each other. God’s first act of hope with Jesus is simply: here, my Son, he’s with you. Not speaking words yet, not teaching with words yet, but with you.
The account of Jesus being born
Over these next couple of weeks, our family is going through the book of the Bible titled Luke, at least the first 2 chapters. The chapters that detail the account of Jesus being born — a gift of God with us to a world of hurting, lonely and fear-filled people.
Ah yes, I’m totally in that camp. More than last year, my husband and I desire to know Emmanuel — to be with him, to find our home in him, to find our safety in him. To find healing in him.
Here’s to a Christmas of anticipating Emmanuel — would you join us?
Hannah Messerly
Read Hannah’s previous guest post: The Art of Nesting in Your Home.
Thanks for sharing Hannah! Connect with Hannah on Instagram. Have you experienced a time of hope in your life? Share in the comments below!
