A Piece Of Christ: Forever & Always This Christmas.

This morning, long before the sun peeked over the horizon, I found a rare moment of stillness. The birds were already awake, their songs filling the dawn air, and I sat outside with my coffee, wrapped in the kind of quiet that feels like a gift. It didn’t last long—before I knew it, the kids were stirring—but for those few moments, I found my heart leaning toward the Lord, toward the story of Christmas, and toward the wonder of it all.

I thought about the long waiting. The people of Israel had waited so long for a Savior, their prayers stretching across centuries, aching for deliverance, longing for a sign that their troubles and weariness would finally come to an end. And then, one night, their Savior came. Quietly.

No trumpets blared. No royal decree was issued. No great crowd gathered.

Instead, Jesus was born in the humblest of places, His arrival noticed by shepherds and angels, yet overlooked by the world. This quietness feels so fitting as I reflect on His life. He didn’t come with fanfare but with a quietness that whispers: I see you. I am with you.

He grew in the quiet of Nazareth, away from the noise of the world. He served with quiet humility, touching the outcast and washing the feet of His followers. And even when His time on earth came to an end, He sent a piece of Himself—His Spirit—to live with us. Quietly. Humbly. Always.

And I wonder… am I the quiet in someone else’s life? The text, the small words, the one that Jesus uses to reach another? Am I resembling His humility and walking in His footsteps?

And I whisper to the Lord, is my story to be like yours? Quiet, no fanfare, weaving through this world almost unnoticed and yet sprinkling your love in every step I make? And I smile at that thought.

The start of this Christmas season, I’ve seen Him in places I often overlook. The smile from a cashier I needed without even knowing it. The unexpected text from a friend I hadn’t spoken to in ages. The social post crossing my screen at just the right moment to give the answer I had been praying for. Such quiet promptings, just like the Savior Himself.

I wonder how often we miss those moments where Christ reveals Himself to us. We look for Him in the big moments, the grand gestures, the answers to our deepest prayers. But so often, He comes in the quiet—a nudge in our hearts, a stillness in the chaos, a reminder in the early morning before the house is awake.

The miracle of Christmas isn’t just in the baby born in Bethlehem. It’s in the truth that He is still with us. Forever and always, He is Immanuel: God with us. He is the peace in our weariness, the hope in our waiting, the presence that never leaves.

This season, let’s not lose sight of that quiet truth. Between the wrapping paper and the lights, the family gatherings and the busyness, let’s hold close to the promise of His presence. He hasn’t left. He’s here, in every piece of our lives, speaking to us in the quiet if we only pause long enough to listen.

May this Christmas be filled with more than noise and sparkle—may it be filled with a fresh awareness of the One who came quietly and stays faithfully, forever and always.

Love,

Sarah x

*Merry Christmas to you all! May this season be filled with blessings, togetherness, reflection and thanksgiving for the one who came to save us. His name is JESUS, and I just adore Him! A huge thank you for journeying with me this year, it’s been such a blessing and I pray that this little space continues to bless you for years to come. I’m actually on a little break until the New Year, but really wanted to share these thoughts with you all. But next year, I’ve got great things to come for my Little Sparrow Loved community! I would love for you to pray about becoming a paid supporter of this sweet space (totally optional of course.)