Christmas Love

But the angel said to them, 'Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.' — Luke 2:10-11

I’ve always believed that God’s love is best found in the places where the world least expects it. Maybe that’s why the Christmas story resonates so deeply with me. A Savior, born in a humble manger, surrounded not by wealth or grandeur, but by simple, unassuming people — Mary, Joseph, and a group of shepherds. It’s in these quiet, humble spaces that God’s immense love seems to shine the brightest.

I’ve been fortunate to see this kind of love first hand in my life, particularly during my time with Youth With A Mission (YWAM). Right after high school, I joined YWAM and found myself volunteering in homes for young girls who had suffered unimaginable abuse. These were girls who, by all worldly standards, had been cast aside and left to bear burdens they never should have carried. I remember walking into those homes for the first time, feeling the weight of their stories and wondering what I could possibly offer.

But what I found was this: God’s love was already there. In the midst of their pain and brokenness, His love was present in the smallest moments. It was in the quiet conversations before bedtime, in the laughter shared over simple games, and in the gentle trust that began to form after weeks of just showing up. These were humble moments, but they were soaked in grace.

One memory stands out vividly. I was sitting on the floor with a group of girls, making friendship bracelets. One of the younger girls, who had been particularly withdrawn, leaned over and whispered, "Do you think God loves me, even after everything?" The question took my breath away. I looked into her eyes, full of uncertainty and hope, and without hesitation, I told her, "Yes. He loves you so much."

At that moment, I didn’t think about Christmas, but now I see its reflection so clearly. Just as Jesus entered the world in the most humble of circumstances, He enters into our lives in those fragile, overlooked places. His love reaches into brokenness and whispers the same message of hope and value that was wrapped in swaddling cloths so long ago. He doesn't love us because we’re perfect or whole; He loves us because we are His, no matter what we've faced or where we've come from.

This experience made me think about how often I look for God in grand or obvious ways, forgetting that His presence is often found in the quiet, simple acts of love. The times when we show up, listen, and care for others — that’s where God’s love becomes tangible. It’s in these moments of humility and vulnerability that I encounter Jesus most deeply.

This Christmas, I’m reminded that the manger wasn’t just a setting for Christ’s birth. It was a declaration that God’s love belongs in the most unexpected places. The humble places. The places where hope feels thin. And I’m grateful that, through experiences like my time with YWAM, I’ve seen His love alive and at work in those very spaces.

May we all look for God’s love in the humble places this Christmas — in our own lives and in the lives of those around us. Because that’s where it’s often the most radiant.