Christmas Eve ushers in soft.

Silent night.

From my pillow, the night’s hush offers only the song of our gentle cascading creek after steady winter rain.

I close my eyes.

What do you see when you close your eyes this Christmas Eve?

What do you see in the night before dawn rises new?

Do you see Love?

Do you see Love seeking you so passionately He was born only to utter, “My Father… if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me.”

No matter the chapters of heartache, it was to be the greatest Love story our world will ever know. Hard, yes. A story of bloodied brow and sweet Mary’s tears.

In the pages of Christmas— the night that was Christmas—in a barn among the animals… He comes.

Humble. Innocent. Swaddled in His mother’s arms.

He comes baby. He comes man. He comes Immanuel. He comes to us. He comes to me and to you.

He didn’t deny the cup. “Yet not as I will, but as you will.”

Lord, let these syllables spill from my lips to Your ears until I see You face to face. “As You will.”

And all You really ask? Is that we love. That we love.

May we come to Your waiting arms with a story of surrendered, committed, sacrificial, extravagant love… page after page. Oh, the irony that a whole world cries tonight to be loved… when You already love us unconditionally and eternally. We seek a love that remains. Oh, how You remain.

This is the way of love. So simple.

Light a candle with me? The world waits to see a Love such as this.