12/25/2025
God can use anything and has a plan for your life. Next time you think your past dictates your future, remember: God often calls the unqualified.
When Jesus entered the world, He didn’t start where people expected Him to.
He didn’t go to Rome.
He didn’t go to religious leadership.
He didn’t go to the most visible, respected, or “put-together” people in the room.
He went to shepherds.
Not the sentimental nativity kind—the real ones.
Those pushed to the margins.
Often viewed as unclean.
Not exactly the trusted voices of their day.
People others wouldn’t trust with anything important.
And yet God trusted them with the first announcement of Jesus—the Son of God.
The angel called it “good news of great joy for all people.” (Luke 2:10)
And before the self-righteous could argue about who “all” included, God chose the kind of people society already excludes.
Later, there were wise men—educated, resourced, influential travelers from the East.
But they didn’t arrive first.
And they didn’t rule anything.
They followed a star.
More mystics than monarchs.
Observers of the heavens.
Seekers of meaning, not holders of power.
And notice—
Jesus didn’t begin with the most religious people either.
Not because religion is bad,
but because certainty can close you off.
When you’re already convinced you know exactly how God works, you’re less likely to recognize Him when He shows up looking different than expected.
From the very beginning, Jesus’ arrival made something clear without saying a word:
This wasn’t about proximity to power.
It wasn’t about appearances.
It wasn’t about who looks righteous or checks the right boxes.
It was about openness.
That detail matters—especially now.
We still confuse visibility with credibility.
Influence with maturity.
Certainty with truth.
We’re tempted to trust the people who look or declare themselves the most religious, even when their grip on control is tighter than their grip on love, compassion and mercy.
The Christmas story quietly dismantles that assumption.
God didn’t bypass the powerful because they were automatically evil.
He bypassed them because power has a way of tightening our grip — on control, certainty, and dominance — until our hands are too full to receive God.
If the shepherds weren’t disqualified, neither are you.
And maybe the very things you assume make you unworthy — your need, your weakness, your doubt, your lack of polish — are the things that keep your hands open.
If the Christmas story makes anything clear, it’s this:
God didn’t announce Jesus to people who looked impressive.
He announced Him to people who were awake enough to receive Him.
Merry Christmas, friends.
Much love to you all.
