Rumination Journal

Now in those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that a census should be taken of the whole empire. This was the first census to take place while Quirinius was governor of Syria. And everyone went to his own town to register. So Joseph also went up from Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, since he was from the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to him in marriage and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her Child to be born. And she gave birth to her firstborn, a Son. She wrapped Him in swaddling cloths and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. — Luke 2:1–7 On this night before Christmas, Advent draws us into the humble scene where God chose to enter the world. The birth of Jesus is set against the backdrop of an empire flexing its power—a decree from Caesar that sends people scattering to be counted. Yet within this swirl of political authority ...

All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet:   “Behold, the virgin will be with child     and will give birth to a son,   and they will call Him Immanuel”     (which means, “God with us”). When Joseph woke up, he did as the angel of the Lord had commanded him and embraced Mary as his wife. But he had no union with her until she gave birth to a Son. And he gave Him the name Jesus. — Matthew 1:22-25 Matthew reminds us that the birth of Jesus is not an isolated event—it is the fulfillment of a long-promised hope. The prophecy from Isaiah becomes flesh in Mary’s womb, and its meaning becomes the heartbeat of Advent: Immanuel—God with us. This truth is the center of the Christmas story. God does not remain distant, silent, or unreachable. He enters human life, steps into our frailty, and chooses to dwell among us. The God who created galaxies also takes on the vulnerability of a child. Advent teaches us that God’s love is not merely...

This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about: His mother Mary was pledged in marriage to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and was unwilling to disgrace her publicly, he resolved to divorce her quietly. But after he had pondered these things, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to embrace Mary as your wife, for the One conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a Son, and you are to give Him the name Jesus, because He will save His people from their sins.” — Matthew 1:18-21 Joseph’s story is filled with quiet courage. Before God revealed the truth to him, Joseph faced a heartbreaking situation—Mary, his betrothed, was expecting a child he knew was not his. As a righteous man, he sought a path that honored both the law and Mary’s dignity. His decision to act with compassion, even before he unde...

But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah,   who are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come forth for Me   One to be ruler over Israel— One whose origins are of old,   from the days of eternity. — Micah 5:2 Micah’s prophecy points us to a deeply Advent-shaped truth: God’s greatest works often begin in the smallest places. Bethlehem was insignificant, overlooked, and easily forgotten among Judah’s towns. Yet God chose it as the birthplace of His Messiah. The Almighty deliberately wrapped majesty in humility, glory in obscurity, and eternity in the simplicity of a rural village. Advent invites us to trust that God continues to work in quiet, hidden ways—in the small choices we make, the quiet prayers we whisper, and the ordinary spaces of our lives where His grace is quietly unfolding. The ruler promised in Micah is not a new creation but One “whose origins are from of old, from ancient times.” This is no ordinary king. The Messiah who would come forth from Bethlehem is et...

He was in the world, and though the world was made through Him, the world did not recognize Him. He came to His own, and His own did not receive Him. But to all who did receive Him, to those who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God—children born not of blood, nor of the desire or will of man, but born of God. — John 1:10–13 John’s Gospel presents a profound mystery at the heart of Advent: the Creator entered His creation, yet many did not recognize Him. The One who shaped the world with His hands walked unnoticed through the streets He formed. Even His own people—those who longed for the Messiah—struggled to receive the One who came to save them. Advent invites us to examine our own hearts with humility. Have we recognized Christ’s presence in the ordinary? Have we received Him not only with our words, but with our lives? Or have distractions, expectations, and worries kept us from seeing Him clearly? Yet John’s words also shine with incredible hope: “To al...

There came a man who was sent from God. His name was John. He came as a witness to testify about the Light, so that through him everyone might believe. He himself was not the Light, but he came to testify about the Light. The true Light, who gives light to everyone, was coming into the world. — John 1:6–9 In the opening verses of John’s Gospel, we meet John the Baptist—a man sent by God not to draw attention to himself but to point others to the Light. Advent is a season shaped by this same calling. Even as we wait for Christ’s coming, we are reminded that our role is not to be the source of light but to bear witness to it. John lived with clarity about who he was and who he was not. He knew his purpose: to prepare others to see Jesus clearly. His humility and focus show us that the greatest calling of a believer is not self-promotion but pointing others to the hope found in Christ. John’s Gospel emphasizes that “the true Light… was coming into the world.” The Light does not originate ...

Then Mary said:   “My soul magnifies the Lord,     and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior!   For He has looked with favor on the humble state of His servant.     From now on all generations will call me blessed.   For the Mighty One has done great things for me.     Holy is His name.   His mercy extends to those who fear Him,     from generation to generation.   He has performed mighty deeds with His arm;     He has scattered those who are proud     in the thoughts of their hearts.   He has brought down rulers from their thrones,     but has exalted the humble.   He has filled the hungry with good things,     but has sent the rich away empty.   He has helped His servant Israel,     remembering to be merciful,   as He promised to our fathers,     to Abraham and his descendants forever.” Mary stayed with Elizabeth for about three months and then...

In those days Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judah, where she entered the home of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. In a loud voice she exclaimed, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! And why am I so honored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For as soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord’s word to her will be fulfilled.” — Luke 1:39–45 As soon as Mary hears Gabriel’s message, she seeks the companionship of someone who will understand—Elizabeth, who is also experiencing a miraculous work of God. Mary enters Elizabeth’s home not with certainty about the future but with a heart full of wonder, questions, and the need for community. Advent reminds us that we are not meant to carry God’s work in our lives alone. Go...

In the sixth month, God sent the angel Gabriel to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin pledged in marriage to a man named Joseph, who was of the house of David. And the virgin’s name was Mary. The angel appeared to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.” Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. So the angel told her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. Behold, you will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to give Him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give Him the throne of His father David, and He will reign over the house of Jacob forever. His kingdom will never end!” “How can this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?” The angel replied, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the Holy One to be born will be called the Son of God. Look...

Then the eyes of the blind will be opened   and the ears of the deaf unstopped. Then the lame will leap like a deer   and the mute tongue will shout for joy. For waters will gush forth in the wilderness,   and streams in the desert. The parched ground will become a pool,   the thirsty land springs of water. In the haunt where jackals once lay,   there will be grass and reeds and papyrus. And there will be a highway   called the Way of Holiness. The unclean will not travel it—   only those who walk in the Way—   and fools will not stray onto it. No lion will be there,   and no vicious beast will go up on it. Such will not be found there,   but the redeemed will walk upon it. So the redeemed of the LORD will return   and enter Zion with singing,   crowned with everlasting joy. Gladness and joy will overtake them,   and sorrow and sighing will flee. — Isaiah 35:5-10 Isaiah’s vision continues with even greater beauty and hope....

The wilderness and the dry land will be glad;   the desert will rejoice and blossom like a rose. It will bloom profusely   and rejoice with joy and singing. The glory of Lebanon will be given to it,   the splendor of Carmel and Sharon. They will see the glory of the LORD,   the splendor of our God. Strengthen the limp hands   and steady the feeble knees! Say to those with anxious hearts:   “Be strong, do not fear! Behold, your God will come with vengeance.   With divine retribution He will come to save you.” — Isaiah 35:1–4 Isaiah’s vision opens with a surprising transformation: the desert rejoices. The place associated with emptiness, lifelessness, and exhaustion is pictured bursting into bloom. Advent uses this imagery to remind us that God brings life to the places we least expect—both in the world and in our own hearts. The wilderness represents seasons of loneliness, waiting, dryness, or discouragement. Yet it is precisely in these places that God...

Be anxious for nothing, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. — Philippians 4:6–7 Paul’s words in Philippians meet us where Advent often finds us—in the midst of busyness, worry, and emotional weight. The command, “Be anxious for nothing,” is not a scolding but an invitation. Paul is not asking us to pretend we have no worries; he is calling us to bring every worry into the presence of God. Advent is a season of giving our hearts to God as they truly are—tired, hopeful, anxious, joyful, overwhelmed, eager—and trusting that He meets us with gentleness, not judgment. When we present our requests to God “with thanksgiving,” we acknowledge that He is already at work, already faithful, already near. The peace of God that Paul describes is not simply relief from fear. It is a guarding peace—a protective presence that surrounds o...

But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far away have been brought near through the blood of Christ. For He Himself is our peace, who has made the two one and has torn down the dividing wall of hostility. — Ephesians 2:13–14 Paul’s words remind us that Advent is not only about waiting for Christ’s coming—it is also about remembering what His coming has already accomplished. “You who once were far away have been brought near.” That is the story of every believer. We were distant from God, separated by sin, fear, confusion, or even indifference. But Christ does not leave His people far off. He draws us close—not by our efforts, our worthiness, or our spiritual strength, but through His sacrifice and His love. Advent proclaims the startling truth of the gospel: God has come near so that we may come near to Him. Paul goes even further. Christ is our peace—not merely the giver of peace, but peace Himself. His presence becomes the place where hostility ends—hostility toward God, hostility ...

“How can I be sure of this?” Zechariah asked the angel. “I am an old man, and my wife is well along in years.” “I am Gabriel,” replied the angel. “I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news. And now you will be silent and unable to speak until the day this comes to pass, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled at their proper time.” Meanwhile, the people were waiting for Zechariah and wondering why he took so long in the temple. When he came out and was unable to speak to them, they realized he had seen a vision in the temple. He kept making signs to them but remained unable to speak. And when the days of his service were complete, he returned home. After these days, his wife Elizabeth became pregnant and for five months remained in seclusion. She declared, “The Lord has done this for me. In these days He has shown me favor and taken away my disgrace among the people.” — Luke 1:18–25 Zechariah’s honest ques...

“In the days of Herod king of Judea, there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the division of Abijah. His wife Elizabeth was also a descendant of Aaron. Both of them were righteous in the sight of God, walking blamelessly in all the commandments and decrees of the Lord. But they had no children, because Elizabeth was barren, and they were both well along in years. Now while Zechariah was serving as priest before God when his division was on duty, he was chosen by lot, according to the custom of the priesthood, to enter the temple of the Lord and burn incense. And when the time for the burning of incense came, the whole congregation was praying outside. Then an angel of the Lord appeared to him, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. When Zechariah saw him, he was startled and gripped with fear.  But the angel said to him, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to name him John. He will b...

I will listen to what God the LORD will say;    He promises peace to His people, His saints—   never let them return to folly.  Surely His salvation is near to those who fear Him,    that His glory may dwell in our land. Loving devotion and faithfulness meet;    righteousness and peace kiss. Faithfulness sprouts from the earth,    and righteousness looks down from heaven. The LORD will indeed provide what is good,    and our land will yield its increase. Righteousness will go before Him    to prepare the way for His steps. — Psalm 85:8–13 Psalm 85 invites us into a posture that is essential during Advent: listening. “I will listen to what God the LORD will say,” the psalmist begins, reminding us that peace does not come through our striving but through God’s speaking. The world is filled with noise—anxieties, responsibilities, distractions—but Advent gently calls us to silence, to attentiveness, to the patient expecta...

Righteousness will be the belt around His hips, and faithfulness the sash around His waist.  The wolf will dwell with the lamb,    and the leopard will lie down with the goat;  the calf and the young lion and the fatling will be together,    and a little child will lead them.  The cow will graze with the bear,    their young will lie down together,    and the lion will eat straw like the ox.  The infant will play by the cobra’s den,    and the toddler will reach into the viper’s nest.  They will neither harm nor destroy    on all My holy mountain,  for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD    as the waters cover the sea. — Isaiah 11:5–9 Isaiah’s vision stretches our imagination to the limits. It depicts a world so permeated by God’s peace that even natural enemies live side by side without fear. Predators no longer harm, the vulnerable are completely safe, and creation is re...

Then a shoot will spring up from the stump of Jesse,     and a Branch from his roots will bear fruit. The Spirit of the LORD will rest on Him—     the Spirit of wisdom and understanding,     the Spirit of counsel and strength,     the Spirit of knowledge and fear of the LORD. And He will delight in the fear of the LORD. He will not judge by what His eyes see,     and He will not decide by what His ears hear, but with righteousness He will judge the poor,     and with equity He will decide for the lowly of the earth. He will strike the earth with the rod of His mouth     and slay the wicked with the breath of His lips. — Isaiah 11:1-4 Isaiah paints a picture of surprising hope: a shoot growing from what looks like a dead stump. Israel’s royal line, once vibrant and flourishing, had been reduced to almost nothing through exile, rebellion, and loss. Yet God declares that from this stump—this seemingly hopeless place—new ...

But you, brothers, are not in the darkness so that this day should overtake you like a thief. For you are all sons of the light and sons of the day; we do not belong to the night or to the darkness. So then, let us not sleep as the others do, but let us remain awake and sober. For those who sleep, sleep at night, and those who get drunk, get drunk at night. But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and love, and the helmet of our hope of salvation. — 1 Thessalonians 5:4-8 Paul’s words remind us that the coming of Christ—both His first coming in Bethlehem and His future return—changes our very identity. We are no longer “of the night” but are now “sons of the light and sons of the day.” Advent is the season in which we remember who we are because of Jesus. We do not wait in fear or confusion. We wait as people who belong to the light, people who recognize God’s redeeming work and live with hope that shines into every circumstance. Darkness may ...

Be on your guard and stay alert! For you do not know when the appointed time will come. It is like a man going on a journey who left his house, put each servant in charge of his own task, and instructed the doorkeeper to keep watch. Therefore keep watch, because you do not know when the master of the house will return—whether in the evening, at midnight, when the rooster crows, or in the morning. Otherwise, he may arrive without notice and find you sleeping. And what I say to you, I say to everyone: Keep watch!” — Mark 13:33-37 Jesus’ words in this passage remind us that Advent is not only a season of comfort but also a season of alertness. His call—“Keep watch!”—is not meant to create fear but to awaken expectation. The master is returning, Jesus says, and His people are meant to live with attentive hearts, eyes open to God’s presence and hands ready for God’s work. The Christian life is not passive waiting; it is active readiness. Advent teaches us to watch for the ways Christ is alr...

And do this, understanding the time: it is already the hour for you to wake up from your slumber, because our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed. The night is nearly over; the day has drawn near. So let us lay aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light. — Romans 13:11-12 Advent is the season when Scripture calls us to pay attention—to recognize that God is doing something, that His purposes are unfolding even when we are tempted to drift through life half-awake. Paul’s invitation echoes the themes of the prophets: Wake up. Look up. Take notice. The night is fading, and God’s light is approaching with ever-increasing brightness. Our salvation—God’s complete, final redemption—comes closer with each passing day. Advent reminds us that we live not in a closed story but in a story that is moving toward fulfillment. Christ’s first coming anchors our hope; His second coming completes it. Paul’s language of night and day suggests that the world around us often d...

“Comfort, comfort My people,”      says your God. “Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,      and proclaim to her that her forced labor has been completed;      her iniquity has been pardoned. For she has received from the hand of the LORD      double for all her sins.” A voice of one calling: “Prepare the way for the LORD in the wilderness;      make a straight highway for our God in the desert. Every valley shall be lifted up,      and every mountain and hill made low; the uneven ground will become smooth,      and the rugged land a plain. And the glory of the LORD will be revealed,      and all humanity together will see it.” For the mouth of the LORD has spoken. —Isaiah 40:1-5 Isaiah 40 opens with a word so gentle, so unexpected, that it breaks like light into a weary soul: “Comfort, comfort My people.” God does not begin with rebuke, instruction, or strategy—He begins wit...

Hear us, O Shepherd of Israel, who leads Joseph like a flock; You who sit enthroned between the cherubim, shine forth before Ephraim, Benjamin, and Manasseh. Rally Your mighty power and come to save us. Restore us, O God, and cause Your face to shine upon us, that we may be saved. —Psalm 80:1-3 Psalm 80 is the cry of people who know they cannot rescue themselves. They appeal to God as their Shepherd—the One who leads, protects, guides, and restores His people. Yet their plea comes from a place of deep sorrow, perhaps even confusion. They wonder where God’s light has gone, why His blessing feels distant, and why their lives seem marked by struggle. In this cry, Advent finds its expression. Advent is the season in which we name our longing honestly, without losing sight of God’s goodness. It is the season where we acknowledge both the world’s brokenness and God’s power to restore it. The refrain at the heart of the psalm—“Restore us… cause Your face to shine upon us, that we may be saved...

Behold, the days are coming, declares the LORD, when I will fulfill the gracious promise that I have spoken to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. In those days and at that time I will cause to grow up for David a righteous Branch, and He will do what is just and right in the land. In those days Judah will be saved, and Jerusalem will dwell securely. —Jeremiah 33:14-16 Jeremiah spoke these words at a time when the future looked anything but hopeful. The kingdom was collapsing, the people were scattered, and Jerusalem’s walls would soon fall. Into that painful reality, God did something unexpected: He spoke a promise of restoration. Not a vague encouragement or a temporary comfort, but a specific, concrete commitment— “the days are coming… I will fulfill My gracious promise.” Advent echoes this same assurance. Even when circumstances appear broken, God’s promises stand firm, rooted in His unchanging character. He is a God who completes what He begins, who restores what has fall...

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death, a light has dawned. —Isaiah 9:2 Advent begins in the dark. It is the honest recognition that the world does not yet look as it should. Isaiah speaks to people who are “walking in darkness”—people who know fear, sorrow, uncertainty, and longing. Yet into that darkness, a promise breaks open: a great light has dawned . Advent invites us to step into that promise, even before we fully see its fulfillment. The dawn does not erase the night immediately, but it announces that the night is ending. God’s light is coming—not because we found our way to Him, but because He has come to us. As we enter this season, the message is clear: God begins His saving work at the very place where we feel most lost. The great light Isaiah promised is fulfilled in Jesus Christ, who enters our world quietly and gently, yet powerfully enough to drive back every form of darkness. Advent is not about preten...

But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus took up this question and said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. “Now by chance a priest was going down the same road, but when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. “So too, when a Levite came to that spot and saw him, he passed by on the other side. “But when a Samaritan on a journey came upon him, he looked at him and had compassion. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. “The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Take care of him,’ he said, ‘and on my return I will repay you for any additional expense.’ “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” “The one who showed him mercy,” replied the ex...

“Then the King will say to those on His right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by My Father; inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave Me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave Me something to drink, I was a stranger and you took Me in, I was naked and you clothed Me, I was sick and you looked after Me, I was in prison and you visited Me.’  “Then the righteous will answer Him, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry and feed You, or thirsty and give You something to drink? When did we see You a stranger and take You in, or naked and clothe You? When did we see You sick or in prison and visit You?’ “And the King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of Mine, you did for Me.’”  — Matthew 25:34–40 Jesus’ words make clear that how we treat “the least of these” is, in His eyes, how we treat Him. The hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the poor, the sick, and the imprisoned are not ...

This is what the LORD of Hosts says: “Administer true justice. Show loving devotion and compassion to one another. Do not oppress the widow or the fatherless, the foreigner or the poor, and do not plot evil in your hearts against one another.”  — Zechariah 7:9–10 Through the prophet Zechariah, God reminds His people that true devotion to Him is inseparable from how we treat others—especially the vulnerable. Administering “true justice” means more than applying rules fairly; it means actively ensuring that those who are overlooked, powerless, or easily harmed receive protection, dignity, and care. Justice in God’s eyes is relational—it restores, defends, and mends what is broken. But justice alone is not enough. God also calls His people to “show loving devotion and compassion,” a tenderness of heart that moves us toward others with empathy and mercy. This combination—justice joined with compassion—reflects the very nature of God, who is both perfectly righteous and infinitely lovin...

When a foreigner resides with you in your land, you must not oppress him. You are to treat the foreigner living among you as native-born and love him as yourself, for you were foreigners in the land of Egypt. I am the LORD your God.  — Leviticus 19:33–34 God’s command to Israel to love the foreigner is rooted in their own story—they had once been strangers in a foreign land and had known both suffering and deliverance. Remembering their own vulnerability was meant to shape how they treated others, especially those who were different or without belonging. To love the stranger as yourself is to extend the same dignity, compassion, and care you would desire for your own life and family. This command reaches far beyond hospitality—it reflects the very heart of God. Throughout Scripture, God reveals Himself as the One who welcomes the outcast, shelters the wanderer, and gathers people from every nation into His Kingdom. In our own fractured age, fear and suspicion often divide communiti...