Advent Through the Lens of Grief – Christmas Eve – Christ
The fifth candle of Advent represents Christ—Emmanuel, God with us.
Fittingly, it comes at the end of four weeks of waiting.
I’m not sure I’ve always appreciated the coming Christ. Too often, what I anticipate at Christmas is a gift I hope to give or receive—something I quietly expect might fill a void. But grief teaches us a hard truth: some voids cannot be filled this side of heaven.
And so, Advent invites a deeper question—not just what are we celebrating, but why Christ came at all.
A Birth Marked by Waiting and Weariness
Luke’s account of Jesus birth tells us that the entire Roman world was required to return to their place of origin for a census. I don’t know how many people that involved, but I imagine crowded roads, overflowing towns, and weary travelers pressed forward by obligation rather than comfort.
And Mary—very young, very pregnant—was among them.
The journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem was roughly 85–90 miles. On foot, it may have taken close to two weeks, perhaps longer with rest along the way. This was not a peaceful holiday trip. It was physically demanding, uncertain, and vulnerable.
And when the time came for Jesus to be born, the delivery room was a manger. His first bed was a feeding trough. His first blanket was a swaddling cloth. The birth announcement, however, was nothing short of breathtaking—a host of angels filling the sky. The first visitors were shepherds, ordinary men who then became the first evangelists, spreading the news of what they had seen and heard.
And Mary—this young woman entrusted with the Son of God—treasured these things and pondered them in her heart.
That detail stays with me.
There were no photo albums. No birth announcements. No public record of the moment she first held her child. Like every mother before her and every mother since, Mary carried the memory within herself—the weight, the wonder, the ache, and the love of bringing a child into the world.
Song – Week Two – “A Strange Way to Save the World”
by Mark R. Harris / Donald A. Koch / David Allen Clark
Like so much of God’s plan, the incarnation sounds strange.
Jesus—the Creator and Redeemer of the world—entered history through a long road trip, no reservations, no room, and no recognition. A young Jewish virgin betrothed to a carpenter. A borrowed place to give birth. A feeding trough instead of a cradle.
Why would God choose this way?
In part, we know it was to fulfill the prophecies we reflected on during Advent Joy. And in part, we must accept that finite minds will never fully grasp the mind of Christ (1 Corinthians 2:16).
The writers of this song capture that tension beautifully:
Excerpt
But Joseph knew the reason
Love had to reach so far
And as he held the Savior in his arms
He must have thoughtWhy me, I’m just a simple man of trade
Why Him with all the rulers in the world
Why here inside this stable filled with hay
Why her, she’s just an ordinary girl
Now I’m not one to second-guess
What angels have to say
But this is such a strange way to save the world
This Christmas, as you reflect on Christ, may you find hope in the promise that grief will not have the last word. A day is coming when God Himself will wipe away every tear from our eyes. There will be no more death (Revelation 21:4).
May you find peace, knowing that the God of peace entered our broken world to make a way of redemption for all.
May you find joy in moments shared with those still with you, and in the memories of those you love who are no longer here.
And may you find love in the Author of love Himself—who came as a baby, lived among us, and gave His life to save the world.
Reflection Questions
- Where do you feel the tension between hope and grief most deeply this Christmas?
- How does knowing that Christ entered the world through vulnerability—not power—change the way you view your own pain?
- What does it mean to you, personally, that God is with us, even when circumstances do not change?
- Is there a question you’ve been carrying in grief that you can place before God this Christmas Eve—without needing an immediate answer?
jthomas
Julie Thomas has a degree in secondary education from Baylor University. She taught and coached for nine years at the secondary level before serving 30 years for Real Options, a pregnancy clinic in Allen, Texas. Her passion is equipping volunteers to talk with women dealing with an unplanned pregnancies. Julie has been married to Marcus for 30+ years, and they have four children: Rachael, Robin, Sara, and Bryan. In 2017, Julie’s life changed forever when she lost her 16-year-old son. Learning to deal with loss in Julie’s life led her to begin a grief ministry, become a certificate in Mental Health Coaching with an understanding of Grief and Loss. REBUILD, Finding Hope After Loss was written by Willow Creek Church in Chicago.
