I've been meditating on the Nativity this Advent, and something struck me that I hadn't fully understood before. God chose to be born in the most vulnerable condition possible. Not as a king in a palace. Not as an adult with authority and wisdom already developed. But as an infant—completely dependent, completely without power, completely at the mercy of others. 💙

This is radical. This is almost incomprehensible when you really stop to think about it. The God of the universe made Himself defenseless. He chose poverty. He chose obscurity. He chose Mary, an ordinary girl, and Joseph, an ordinary man. He chose a stable instead of a throne. He chose animals instead of courtiers. 🌟

We talk about Christmas being about love, and yes, it is. But I think it's also about something harder: it's about God demonstrating that true power is not what we think it is. Real strength is vulnerable. Real greatness is humble. Real divinity chooses to be small so that we can understand it, so that we can meet it at the level of our own smallness. ✨

I've been thinking about what this means for how I live. We spend so much time trying to be important, trying to secure ourselves, trying to be impressive or powerful or in control. And Christmas says: God became a baby. God became dependent. God became poor. And this was not a loss of dignity—it was the fullest expression of love the world has ever known. 💫

If God can choose vulnerability, what does that mean about my need to always be strong, always be right, always have it figured out? What if surrender is not weakness but the highest form of courage? 🕊️

This Christmas, I'm trying to understand what Mary understood when she held her newborn son and knew He was God. How do you contain the infinite in your arms? How do you love something you can barely comprehend? Maybe that's what faith actually is—holding the impossible and saying yes anyway. 🎄