We know what Christmas looks like on earth. Trees and lights and songs and wreaths but what about from heaven’s perspective? Revelation 12 gives us a behind-the-scenes glimpse of Christmas. While Mary gave birth in a humble stable, heaven was celebrating the arrival of the Child who would defeat evil forever. It’s like a cosmic victory party, with angels cheering and joy flowing like waves through all of eternity.
That joy isn’t just reserved for angels and heavenly choirs. It’s ours too. Jesus’ birth wasn’t just an event in history; it was the start of a revolution of hope, love, and salvation. Heaven’s joy invites us to join the celebration here on Earth.
Reflection: How can you make room for heaven’s joy in your heart this Christmas?
Application: Celebrate big! Bake cookies, light candles, and share the story of Jesus with someone. Heaven’s joy is too good to keep to yourself.
Joy in suffering? At first, it sounds as out of place as a snowstorm in July. But Paul shows us that even in hardship, joy is possible because suffering produces perseverance, character, and hope.
The Christmas story isn’t free from struggle. Mary and Joseph faced rejection and uncertainty, yet their journey brought them to the joy of Jesus. Advent reminds us that joy isn’t found in perfect circumstances—it’s found in knowing Jesus is with us, even in life’s messiest moments. And it’s even better when we have a church family that’s willing to meet us in that very same messiness of life.
Reflection: How can you lean into joy, even when life feels hard this season?
Application: Look for glimpses of Christ’s presence in your challenges. Joy isn’t the absence of struggle; it’s the presence of hope in the midst of struggle.
The angel’s announcement to the shepherds wasn’t just good news—it was great joy for all people! Imagine being one of those shepherds, sitting in the dark fields when the sky explodes with light and music. That kind of joy isn’t quiet; it’s the kind that makes you jump up, shout, and run to Bethlehem.
Christmas is a reminder that the good news of Jesus is for everyone: the busy parent, the lonely neighbor, the overworked employee, and the wide-eyed child. It’s the kind of joy that transforms ordinary nights into holy moments.
Reflection: Who in your life needs to hear the good news this season?
Application: Share the good news of Jesus with someone, whether it’s through words, actions, or a simple invitation to church.
My mind works in some pretty weird ways – I’ll admit that one. Like this for example. Picture getting to heaven and standing at those proverbial pearly gates. But instead of the smiling face of Jesus or the skeptical face of Thomas, you are greeted by the stern face of a 350lb man with an angry face. He’s dressed in all black with the words Bouncer across the chest.
Now that would be a sight wouldn’t it! A bouncer at the gates of heaven! I really don’t think anyone wants a heaven guarded by a bouncer. So why do so many churches act like cultural bouncers rather than heavenly ushers?
When Jesus told us to “love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12:31), He didn’t add a bunch of fine print. He didn’t say, “Love your neighbor, but only if they think like you, vote like you, or live like you.” And when He commanded us to “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:44), He didn’t mean we should grudgingly mutter a prayer for people we dislike just so we can check a spiritual box. No, Jesus’ words cut deeper. They challenge us to the core.
So, here’s the truth: Heaven needs more ushers—people willing to open doors, extend invitations, welcome strangers, and walk people into the grace of God—and way fewer bouncers, those who slam doors shut based on who they think belongs inside.
Bouncers Block the Kingdom
A bouncer’s job at a club or event is pretty clear: keep the “wrong people” out. If you don’t look right, act right, or meet the standards, the bouncer has no problem saying, “Move along.” Unfortunately, far too often, Christians fall into this bouncer mindset. We size people up. We create criteria for who’s worthy of love, grace, and even a seat at church. We make it harder to experience the grace of Jesus than we do get into a presidential banquet. You have to dress a certain way, memorize specific content from the Bible or other confessional book, do church the same way everyone else it, etc.
But let’s remember Jesus’ words to the religious leaders of His day—leaders who turned faith into an exclusive club. He told them in Matthew 23:13: “Woe to you… You shut the door of the kingdom of heaven in people’s faces.” Ouch. That’s what happens when we act like bouncers.
When we treat the church like a VIP lounge for the already-cleaned-up, we block the very people Jesus came to save. The broken, the messy, the outcasts—these are the people He welcomed. “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick,” Jesus said (Luke 5:31).
Ask yourself this: Are you standing at the door of your life, sizing people up? Are you deciding who deserves your kindness, your forgiveness, or even a prayer? If so, it’s time to put down the clipboard and hand out an invitation instead. Are you trying to purify people of their moral choices before letting them get to know the Jesus who died for them? Are you making them believe before they’re allowed to belong?
Ushers Open Doors
An usher’s job is the exact opposite. They welcome people in. They smile, extend a hand, and show others where to sit. Ushers remove obstacles so people can get where they need to go. In the church, they don’t just open physical doors—they open spiritual ones. They say, “Come as you are. You belong here. There’s a place for you at the table.”
And isn’t that just what Jesus did?
When He met the woman at the well in John 4, she came with baggage—relational failures, shame, isolation. Jesus didn’t play the bouncer. He didn’t say, “You’re not good enough to talk to me.” No, He treated her with dignity, spoke truth with love, and offered her living water. He opened the door to a new life.
When Zacchaeus climbed that sycamore tree (Luke 19), the crowds had already labeled him an outcast. Yet Jesus didn’t push the little guy aside. Instead, He said, “I must stay at your house today.” Jesus opened a door, and Zacchaeus’ life was changed forever.
This is what ushers do—they extend grace, they make space, and they trust God to do the necessary work in people’s lives.
Loving Our Neighbor AND Our Enemy
Here’s where it gets hard, though. Loving your neighbor as yourself is challenging enough, but Jesus didn’t stop there. He also said, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:44). And let’s be honest: that’s a tough pill to swallow.
Enemies? The coworker who undermines you. The family member who betrayed you. The person whose views offend you. The follower of Jesus who worships different than you or sings different songs than you. In our bouncer persona, we want to shut the door on them. We want to keep them out of our hearts, out of our lives, and maybe even out of our church. But Jesus totally flips the script.
Loving your enemy doesn’t mean agreeing with them. It doesn’t mean letting them walk all over you. But it does mean praying for them, showing kindness, and leaving room for God’s grace to do its work. Romans 12:20 says, “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink.” Why? Because love softens hearts. Love opens doors.
The Church, Simply Put, Needs More Ushers
The world already has enough bouncers—people quick to judge, exclude, and reject. What it needs are ushers, people who take seriously the call to love others the way Jesus loves us.
Think about it: Did Jesus act like a bouncer when He saved you? Did He stand at the door and say, “Come back when you’re perfect?” No. He opened His arms wide. He welcomed you in. He let you belong before you fully believed.
And now, He’s asking you to do the same for others.
So, let’s put down our pride. Let’s drop the “bouncer mentality” that says, “You’re not good enough.” Instead, let’s become ushers in God’s Kingdom—people who live with open hearts, open hands, and open doors.
Who can you love this week? Who can you forgive? Who needs a seat at the table?
Because love doesn’t shut people out. Love invites them in.
If Isaiah were alive today, he might’ve written a Christmas carol about God’s salvation. His words burst with joy: “Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid.” It’s the kind of joy that makes you want to sing at the top of your lungs—even if you can’t carry a tune in a bucket!
Christmas is a celebration of salvation. Jesus came to rescue us, not just from sin but also from fear, loneliness, and despair. His salvation is like unwrapping the biggest, most unexpected gift under the tree—nope not the Red Rider BB Gun. I’m talking about joy – pure joy!
This Advent, rejoice in the gift of salvation. Let it lift your spirits and inspire your song.
Reflection: What has God saved you from, and how does that bring you joy today?
Application: Sing! Whether it’s a carol or a simple prayer of thanks, let your joy overflow in praise.
Imagine a group of travelers going hundreds of miles with a treasure chest in tow, guided by nothing more than a star. When they finally found Jesus, their first reaction wasn’t relief or exhaustion—it was joy! They “rejoiced exceedingly with great joy.”
The Wisemen remind us that joy comes from seeking (and finding) Jesus. They didn’t let the long journey or the uncertainty stop them. And when they found Him, they gave their best gifts—not because they had to, but because their hearts were overflowing. Overflowing with joy!
This season, let’s follow their lead. Joy isn’t about perfect plans or shiny packages. It’s about finding Jesus, wherever we are.
Reflection: What would it look like for you to “seek” Jesus this Advent?
Application: Let the joy of Christ fill your heart. Share it with others through laughter, generosity, and maybe a little Christmas smile!
Have you ever tried to measure the love in that perfect Christmas gift? A handmade scarf shows thoughtfulness. A heartfelt card brings tears. But God’s love? That one is immeasurable.
Paul prays that we’d grasp the width, length, height, and depth of Christ’s love—a love so vast it can’t fit under the tree. It’s a love that crosses the galaxies to meet you in your living room, a love that fills every empty corner of your heart.
This Advent, let Christ’s love fill you to overflowing. It’s not just a gift to receive but one to share generously with others.
Reflection: Where do you see God’s love at work in your life this Advent season?
Application: Love big! Go out of your way to show someone they’re deeply loved by God—and by you.
God’s love is bigger than your longest Christmas shopping list! The psalmist says, “Your love, Lord, reaches to the heavens, your faithfulness to the skies.” It’s a love that never fails, even when we do.
Think about the people you love most—family, friends, maybe even that crazy uncle who tells the same stories every Christmas. Now multiply that love by infinity, and you’ve got a glimpse of God’s affection for you. Ok so you don’t even have a glimpse because we can’t even fathom a love that big!
This Advent, bask in the unfailing love of God. It’s a love that doesn’t fade with the season but sticks around all year long.
Reflection: How can you let God’s love shape your relationships this Christmas?
Application: Let love lead! Choose forgiveness, patience, and kindness, reflecting the limitless love of God.
Immanuel. It means “God with us.” That’s the heart of Christmas: God didn’t stay distant; He stepped into our messy, chaotic world to be with us. He didn’t arrive in royal robes but in tattered and swaddling cloths, laid in a manger.
Picture a king trading his throne for a stable, just to be near his people. That’s Jesus. He doesn’t wait for us to have it all together—He meets us in our everyday struggles, joys, and even the holiday chaos. He meets us in the messiness of our day to day lives.
This Christmas, take comfort in knowing you’re never alone. Immanuel means Jesus is with you in every carol sung, every cookie baked, and every quiet moment of prayer. He’s also with you though in every screaming kiddo, over blown budget, and family gathering that didn’t go as planned!
Immanuel is God with you!
Reflection: How can you make space to experience God’s presence this Advent?
Application: Slow down. Pause during the busyness to thank God for being with you every step of the way.
I’ve never really shied away from a hard truth, so here’s one for today. If you’re constantly weighed down by petty drama, meaningless debates, and other people’s chaos, it’s not because life is hard—it’s because your life is too small.
When you’re living small, every little thing feels like a crisis. Someone looked at you funny? You stew over it for days. A co-worker got credit for your idea? You’re ready to quit. A friend didn’t text back? Obviously, it’s the end of the relationship. Someone is busy and misses a meeting that you feel is important? You go WWIII on them.
But the problem isn’t them. It’s you. Or more specifically, the scope of your life.
It’s like this. When you’re focused on building something bigger—living for a purpose, chasing a mission, or pouring yourself out for something that matters—you don’t have time for small worries. Your energy is spent on creating, growing, and changing the world around you.
You can’t live a big life while sweating over small stuff. That math doesn’t math.
The Curse of the Small Life
Small living is self-centered living. Don’t take this the wrong way, but if your world revolves around you—your preferences, your image, your comfort—then every little inconvenience feels like a personal attack. Why? Because small people make themselves the center of the universe.
That’s exhausting. And honestly? It’s unbiblical.
Proverbs 19:11 says, “Good sense makes one slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense.” When your life is big—when you’re focused on God’s purpose and others’ needs—offenses lose their sting. You don’t get rattled by someone cutting you off in traffic or throwing shade on social media because your eyes are fixed on something (or someone) bigger.
But if your world is small, every offense feels monumental. You’re a ship tossed by every wave. You’re fragile. And let’s be real: Nobody wants to live like that.
Get Over Yourself and Get to Work
Living a big life starts with letting go of the need to be right, admired, or even comfortable. It’s not about you. It never was.
Jesus said in Matthew 16:24, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” That’s big living. It’s gritty, uncomfortable, and requires sacrifice. But it’s also the most fulfilling way to live.
Want a big life? Start focusing on what God has called you to do. How about try feeding the hungry. Mentoring a young person. Or just love your neighbor (even the obnoxious ones). Intentionally invest in your family. Step into your church. Go after that dream God planted in your heart.
When you’re busy doing big things, the little things don’t have room to take root. You’ll stop sweating over someone’s tone in an email because you’re too busy planning that next ministry, mission trip, or career step.
Big lives are marked by action, not reaction.
Here’s another punch to the gut: If you’re waiting for life to be perfect before you live big, you’re going to wait forever. The enemy of a big life isn’t failure—it’s fear. Fear of making mistakes, fear of looking stupid, fear of getting hurt.
Newsflash Princess! You’re going to fail. You’ll mess up. People will hurt you. So what?
Living big is messy, but it’s better than the alternative: wasting your life worrying about what doesn’t matter – or meddling in other people’s business!
Start now. Step out. Don’t let the size of your life be dictated by your fears.
The Payoff
When you live big, your worries shrink. Why? Because your perspective changes. You’re not bogged down by trivial things when you’re laser-focused on eternal things.
You’ll notice that small people criticize while big people create. Small people complain while big people serve. Small people cling to their comfort zones while big people break barriers and shatter ceilings.
The choice is yours: Big life, small worries—or small life, big drama.
Jesus didn’t come so you could survive in the shallow end. He came to give you life to the full (see John 10). A big life. A God-sized life. A life that drowns out small worries because it’s consumed with a mission that matters.
So, what’s it going to be? Stay small, or step into something big?
