Shepherd's Heart 12/12/25

There's something about December that makes me slow down, even when my schedule refuses to cooperate. Yesterday I found myself standing in the kitchen, coffee in hand, watching the sky lighten through the window while the snow fell from the sky. I had a long to-do list, a sermon to write, but for just a few minutes, the world was quiet. And in that stillness, I felt it: the weight and the wonder of waiting.

That's what Advent is, really. It's the sacred practice of not yet. We light candles week by week, one by one, because the light doesn't come all at once. It builds. It grows. It breaks through the darkness slowly, the way dawn does; not with a sudden flash, but with a gradual, persistent glow that eventually fills every corner.

I think about Mary in those final days before Bethlehem. The ache in her back. The questions she must have carried. The way hope and fear probably traded places in her heart a hundred times a day. She was waiting too, waiting for a promise she couldn't fully comprehend, trusting a God she couldn't fully see. And isn't that where so many of us find ourselves? Holding onto hope even when the waiting stretches longer than we expected. Believing that light is coming, even when the night feels impossibly dark.

Here's what I've been learning this Advent: waiting isn't passive. It's an act of faith. Every time we choose hope over cynicism, every time we look for light instead of dwelling in the shadows, every time we gather together to remember that God keeps His promises, we're participating in something ancient and holy. We're joining the chorus of those who waited before us, and we're preparing our hearts to receive what God is still doing.

And that's why I want to invite you to something special.

Christmas Eve at Good Shepherd is one of my favorite nights of the entire year. There's something about all of us gathered together - candles in hand, carols filling the room, hearts turned toward the manger - that reminds me why the Church exists. We were made for this. We were made to celebrate hope together.

This year, I want to ask you to do two things:

First, think about who you might invite. Research tells us that people are more open to a church invitation during the Christmas season than any other time of year. That neighbor who's been on your heart. That coworker who mentioned they've been searching for something more. That family member who hasn't been to church in years. Christmas Eve is a beautiful, low-pressure way to say, "Come and see." You might be surprised who says yes.

Second, consider joining us on December 23rd for our Christmas Eve Eve service. I know, it sounds a little quirky. But here's why it matters: by attending our 5:30pm contemporary service on the 23rd, you'll help us make room for newcomers and guests on Christmas Eve itself. If you call Good Shepherd home, this is a beautiful way to serve our community and create a welcoming space for those who are walking through our doors for the very first time.

Here's our full lineup:

Monday, December 23rd – Christmas Eve Eve
  • 5:30pm Contemporary Service (Nursery staffed; Disability Ministry support available)

Tuesday, December 24th – Christmas Eve
  • 11:00am Family Service
  • 1:30pm & 3:15pm Contemporary Worship
  • 6:00pm & 7:30pm Traditional Worship
  • 11:00pm Candlelight Service

Nursery is staffed at select services, and Disability Ministry support is available; just let us know you're coming so we can be ready to welcome you well.

Friends, the light is coming. It always does. And I can't wait to celebrate it with you.

With hope and love,

Pastor Tara Beth