18 Now the birth of Jesus Christ took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. 19 And her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly. 20 But as he considered these things, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. 21 She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” 22 All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet:
23 “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
and they shall call his name Immanuel”
(which means, God with us). 24 When Joseph woke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him: he took his wife, 25 but knew her not until she had given birth to a son. And he called his name Jesus.
There wasn’t a bed full of fluffy pillows. No nurses to bring warm towels. No visitors pacing the waiting room, no mother’s hand to hold.
There wasn’t a birth coach or a midwife or ice chips to chew on.
There was a girl.
There was a boy.
There was a mighty God with a plan.
It blows my mind that Jesus agreed to the plan. To go from Heaven’s golden throne to manger full of hay. To empty Himself and become a helpless baby. To dwell among us.
I am so thankful He came! How weak and meager and wretched and poor I would still be had he not come.
Thank you sweet Jesus. Thank you blessed Savior. Thank you Lamb of God. The only One who could bear my sin, my punishment, my shame.