Bethlehem looked small on every map, yet God chose it as the birthplace of a great hope. This is a reminder that God delights in beginning big things in unassuming spaces and overlooked people. When life feels ordinary or hidden, you can trust that God has not missed your address. He often plants miracles where the world isn’t looking. Ask Him to open your eyes to His quiet work in the humble corners of your life today. And as you notice it, let gratitude become your response. [09:12]
Micah 5:2 — Bethlehem, though you seem tiny and insignificant, from you God will raise a ruler for His people, one whose story reaches back beyond memory and time.
Reflection: What ordinary corner of your life might God be preparing to use in an unexpected way, and how could you welcome His work there this week?
The innkeeper wasn’t cruel; he was just full, and that fullness kept him from a holy encounter. Our lives can be like that—crowded with obligations, expectations, and the pressure to curate a perfect season. Love often arrives quietly and needs space to be received. Consider what you might release: an unnecessary commitment, a perfectionist script, or the fear of disappointing others. Saying no to lesser things can become a yes to the presence of Christ. Make room for what truly matters. [16:34]
Luke 2:7 — Mary delivered her first child, wrapped Him snugly, and laid Him in a feed trough because every available room was already taken.
Reflection: Where are you too “full” to notice Christ’s arrival, and what specific commitment could you gently decline this week to create space?
Mary didn’t have every answer, yet she offered herself to God with a trusting yes. Humility looks like open hands—ready to receive, willing to be interrupted, and brave enough to release control. Her yes came with cost and misunderstanding, but it also made room for God’s life to grow within her. You don’t need all the details to be faithful; you need a willing heart. Today, practice a simple prayer: “I’m yours; let your word take root in me.” Let availability be your act of worship. [54:46]
Luke 1:38 — Mary replied, “I am the Lord’s servant; let your word unfold in me just as You have said.”
Reflection: What is one concrete, risky step of availability you can take—large or small—that says to God, “I’m willing”?
The shepherds were doing their ordinary night work when heaven broke in. Because they weren’t too important or too busy, they heard the news, believed it, and moved quickly to worship. Their humility kept them responsive to God’s surprise and free to follow joy. You can cultivate the same posture by living interruptible—ready to pause when grace appears in unexpected places. Let your everyday watchfulness become the doorway to worship. Be ready for joy to change your plans. [41:22]
Luke 2:8–14 — Out in the fields, shepherds kept night watch when an angel lit up the darkness. “Don’t be afraid,” the messenger said. “I bring good news that will overflow with joy for everyone. Today in David’s town a Rescuer is born—the Anointed Lord. You’ll know Him by this sign: a baby wrapped and resting in a manger.” Then a sky-full of angels praised God: “Glory in the highest, and peace on earth to those embraced by His favor.”
Reflection: What daily rhythm could you adjust so you’re more interruptible—practically able to pause and respond when you sense God nudging you?
If you feel drained, you are not disqualified; you are ready. God loves to meet people who have reached the end of themselves and are willing to make room. Release the drive to manufacture a perfect season and receive the gift of presence—God with us in the ordinary, the tired, and the messy. Let your emptiness become an open manger where Christ can rest and renew you. Breathe, slow down, and welcome the One who fills what you cannot. Let hope refuel your soul today. [01:02]
Matthew 11:28–30 — “Come to me, all of you worn down and carrying too much. I will give you rest. Walk with me, learn my way of gentleness, and you’ll find rest deep in your soul. My way fits you well; the load I give is light.”
Reflection: Where are you most depleted right now, and what gentle, specific practice could you adopt this week to receive Christ’s rest in that exact place?
On this fourth Sunday of Advent, I invited us to walk with Mary and Joseph to little Bethlehem—the humble, overlooked place where God chose to arrive. Luke’s story pulls us into a town that wasn’t a destination, yet became the birthplace of the Savior. We lingered with the shepherds, the least likely audience for heaven’s announcement, and we considered Mary’s courageous “let it be,” a posture of humble availability in the face of mystery. In sharp contrast, we met the innkeeper—not a villain, just full. That fullness cost him a once-in-history encounter.
I shared a midnight drive through Bethlehem, Georgia, coasting in on fumes—an embodied picture of how many of us feel in December. Our schedules, expectations, and carefully curated plans can leave us too crowded to receive what God longs to birth in us. The Advent question is not whether Bethlehem has room, but whether we do. Where am I too full to welcome Christ’s hope, peace, joy, and love?
Practically, humility looks like making space: saying no to what is not life-giving; releasing the “perfect Christmas” that quietly owns us; admitting when we’re running on empty; and choosing to be interruptible. These are not techniques but acts of trust—letting go of control so that grace can find us. God does not require us to be impressive, important, or put together. God comes to humble places—stables, fields, and the ordinary rooms of our lives—whenever there is room.
As we stand on the threshold of Christmas, I asked us to pause and listen: Is there room in me for what God wants to birth this year? The innkeeper reminds us how easy it is to miss holy moments by simply being full. The shepherds and Mary show us a better way: open, receptive, ready to be surprised. May we carry that humility into this week, making space for Christ to be born again in us.
Now, this phrase, there was no room in the inn, it has become so familiar to us that we kind of gloss over that and we kind of miss the tragedy of that line. You see, the Son of God arrived and the door was closed. Not out of malice, not out of spite, but out of fullness. The innkeeper simply was full. He wasn't a villain. He wasn't malicious. He was just full. And so it begs the question of us, where in our lives are we too full to receive the Christ child this Christmas?
[00:52:12]
(46 seconds)
#TooFullToReceive
This humility, this humility, it demands of us a bit of receptivity where we can stand before God and we can say, Okay, I don't have it all figured out. I can't plan seven steps ahead because I don't get what's happening, God, but I trust in you and I believe that if I can let go and empty myself of the things that I'm clinging to so desperately that you will come in and fill it up with the good things you have in store for me. It requires a bit of humility, doesn't it? It means we're open, we're available, we're receptive to surprise, to mystery, to God showing up in our lives.
[00:54:32]
(53 seconds)
#LetGoToReceive
Someone else in this story had some humility as well. Her name was Mary. We talked about her last week. And when the angel showed up, she had a question or two. How can this be? And yet, she said, may it be so. I don't understand it. I don't have it all figured out. It kind of doesn't make any sense at all. But let it be so. May it be. And she made herself available in her humility. It was going to cost her. What an embarrassing thing for a young, probably 14-year-old virgin in the first century. There would be a price to pay. And yet, Mary was open, humble, and receptive.
[00:56:13]
(58 seconds)
#OpenLikeMary
What about the innkeeper, though? Back to him. He was so full that he missed Christmas. So full that he missed the arrival of the Christ child. So full that he made no room for this mystery and this joy. No room. And Jesus, well, Jesus was born in this most humble of places. And Jesus waits to be born again in every life, in the humble, confusing, mysterious places of our lives. Jesus is waiting to be born in us anew in the places that aren't too full to receive him.
[00:57:12]
(48 seconds)
#BornInTheHumble
And so, as we stand on the threshold of Christmas Day, the question before us is this. Is there room? Is there room in my life for what God wants to birth in me this year? Not in some theoretical inn 2,000 years ago, but right here in my life, this inn that is my corporeal being, this living, breathing body that I've been given, this soul, this heart. Is there room in me for mystery? Or are we too full to receive what God wants to birth in us?
[00:58:00]
(46 seconds)
#IsThereRoomInMe
And there it was in the distance. Angels were singing. I saw it. I kind of pulled in on fumes. You ever pulled in on fumes? Bethlehem saved me that night. And I wonder if Bethlehem could save you. This humble place. This place that on one hand was too full to receive the Messiah. And on the other hand, open because of a humble stable and a manger where the Christ child was laid. Maybe Bethlehem can save you this Christmas as well.
[01:01:50]
(51 seconds)
#BethlehemSavedMe
So if you're running on empty this Christmas season, if you just have a hard time letting go of that which God is saying release. Maybe it's not the Bethlehem of the gas station in Georgia, but this humble origin place where our Savior was born. The Bethlehem where God chose to show up small and vulnerable and so very real.
[01:02:41]
(29 seconds)
#RunningOnEmptyChristmas
So the good news of this Christmas season is this. God doesn't require us to be impressive or important or put together or have the perfect Christmas. God doesn't require any of that. God comes to humble places. Empty places. God comes to us when we have room because of having let go, made space, and not being so full of ourselves. That's where God shows up. When God is ready to show up, let us be like Mary who said, Here am I. There's room. Please come.
[01:03:10]
(46 seconds)
#MakeRoomLikeMary
I'm an AI bot trained specifically on the sermon from Dec 22, 2025. Do you have any questions about it?
Add this chatbot onto your site with the embed code below
<iframe frameborder="0" src="https://pastors.ai/sermonWidget/sermon/humility-christ-child" width="100%" height="100%" style="height:100vh;"></iframe>Copy