Motivated By Love

I was eight and a half months pregnant that first Christmas in my grief. Just four months before, we had received a diagnosis for our unborn son that left us knowing that, barring a miracle from God, we’d be saying goodbye to him way sooner than we ever imagined.

There was something so significant that year about being pregnant at Christmastime. I had low energy, both physically and emotionally, and so in some ways Christmas became a little bit simpler. But, honestly, it became a little bit more meaningful too.

I would go about my days, obviously with child, and I would think about what we were about to celebrate: Christmas. The birth of Jesus. I’d read the story of Jesus’ birth in Luke 2, and I would consistently dwell on one thing: Mary. 

She understood. A teenage girl promised to be married to a carpenter, Mary found favor with God and was chosen as a vessel to carry the Son of God who became the Son of Man. Mary was with child. So was I.

Advent is a time of anticipation. We celebrate and await the promised return of our Savior as we remember the anticipation of Him coming to this earth in the first place. I was living out my own kind of advent—pregnant with anticipation, literally, of our son’s birth…and death—and I grew a deep compassion for Mary.

Mary carried a baby to term, like I would. Mary gave birth to a son, like I was going to. Mary knew the bitter taste of the death of a child. I would soon. Mary became a kindred spirit to me that year. She loved her son. She understood.

One night that Christmas season, I sat on my couch and realized—really realized—almost as if for the first time, why we celebrate Jesus’ birth. Jesus, the Son of God seated on the throne, was willing to humble Himself in the form of a baby (Philippians 2:5-8), fully dependent, and getting all nourishment from the woman who carried Him, birthed Him, and loved Him.

Although Jesus came as a baby, it was more than that. Jesus left His throne and entered into the mess of this world. He lived the perfect life that you and I weren’t able to live and died the death that we deserve—-the shameless shamed. He took our punishment and paid it all. He rose again, and He conquered. He brought victory over all of the sin and evil in the world.

Jesus—He holds the keys to life and to death (John 14:6; Revelation 1:18).
He promises His nearness (Matthew 28:11).
He loved the sinners, tax collectors, and Pharisees (Matthew 2:16-17).
He promises that one day there will be no more sin, death, and tears (Revelation 21:4).
Jesus, the Son who died so that my son might live.

And it was all motivated by love.

This Christmas story that I have heard since I was a child is more than just a story. It’s more than just a baby in a manger. It’s even more than a brave mother carrying the son that she was going to one day weep over. This Christmas story is about love. It always was. Even from before that story began, God was motivated by love.

As the prophecy foretold, “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call His name Immanuel.” (Matthew 1:23). God with us. He was with us. He lived with those whose debt He’d pay. He lived with those whose worlds were crashing down, whose flesh had failed them. And He did it out of love.

“The Lord your God is in your midst, a Mighty One who will save, He will rejoice over you with gladness; He will quiet you by His love; He will exult over you with loud singing.”
Zephaniah 3:17 

His love motivated Him to draw near. He was in our midst—this Mighty One who saves. And He hasn’t left us.

Mary carried her son. Her son died in our place. This Christmas may you realize that it’s more than just a tree and presents. It’s even more than making sweet memories. May you realize that it’s about love. It’s about our King living with us.

In the loneliness of your grief, in the anticipation of your loss, in the darkest of days as you search for hope, may you know that His love for us isn’t just for salvation from sin, although that is weighty and mighty and good. May you also know that His love meets you just where you are right now, too, in your heartache and in your pain. God understands the loss of a child. He willingly lost His for you. 

Christmas has always been a mix of brokenness and joy, and it was always motivated by love.  You are loved today. You are seen and known. Lean into Him, and savor His love.

My husband John-Mark and I live in Richmond, VA, where we spend our days with college students, sharing the grace and truth that Jesus offers as He transforms their lives – and ours. I am a big fan of warm weather and the beach, meaningful conversations with those I love, and my family. These days I am in a new phase of my motherhood as I invest most of my time caring for my youngest, a sweet baby girl. The greatest honor of my life is being a mom of two with babies in Heaven.

We would be honored to share your story as a Hope Mom on our blog. On Saturdays we feature Hope Moms’ stories in order to showcase God’s faithfulness even in the midst of such deep sorrow. If you would like to have your story shared on our blog for this purpose, learn more and submit here.