If you’re comfortable to, I’m going to ask you to close your eyes right now, and place your hand on your chest overtop of your heart for a minute. Can you feel it beating there? Proof that you’re alive. Proof that God loved the idea of you so much that he actually breathed you into existence.

Can you feel the air moving in and out of your lungs, right there under your hand? 

That’s how close God longs to be to you. Not far off somewhere in the expansive universe, not up in the sky in some kind of distant-someday-heaven-place, not even in a manger on the Bethlehem countryside anymore… but right here, like the air moving in and out of your lungs, as close as close can possibly be. Closer than your skin. On the inside, fueling every part of your being. 

Because love moves in. Can you let yourself just sit with that for a minute? Try to let yourself feel it (maybe for the very first time, or maybe deeper than you’ve ever felt before)? God longs to be this close. Even closer than your breath. Because God is love, and love moves in. 

You can even use those words as a simple prayer, in your mind, with each breath: love moves in. Love moves in. Love moves in. Keep breathing that prayer for a few more seconds. 

Maybe every time over the next few days, few weeks, over the year to come, whenever you find yourself in situations where you’re feeling alone, disconnected from people, from God, from yourself, disconnected from Love – even if it’s at a dinner table surrounded by people who are supposed to love you! – take a quick second to place your hand to your chest again and feel that breath moving in and out of your lungs. Feel your own heartbeat, and remind yourself that you are in fact so very loved, and so very held, by the (great big!) God of the universe who longs to be this close to you. Closer than your breath. That’s why Christmas. Because love moves in. 

Amen