I have a special request to share in the Notes section, but first, here’s today’s article:
Back in 2021, I went through the hardest year of my life. 2020’s Covid hysteria was difficult, but I had no idea how much worse things would get the following year. There were many dark, challenging days, and by the time the holidays rolled around, the joy was nowhere to be found.
As the annual parade of Christmas movies began, I felt bitterness toward George Bailey, the man with “A Wonderful Life.” In his story, he, too, was facing hard times. He had reached the end of his rope, and it seemed as though there was no way out.
As we all know, the story reached its “happily ever after” when he was shown how big of an impact his life had made, how appreciated he was, and how much everyone wanted him around. The town of Bedford Falls’ appreciation for him was so great that no one hesitated to come to his aid in his moment of need. What a heart-warming ending, right?
Sure… but what about the person who isn’t George Bailey.
What about the person who feels abandoned by loved ones, betrayed by friends, unwanted everywhere he goes? What would Clarence the angel show somebody who wasn’t the connective tissue of his entire town’s fragile social fabric? We see this sense of abandonment in times at the Psalms, as the writers lament their feeling of disconnection from everyone around them.
The movie doesn’t just fail to give comfort when you’re in that situation—it makes you feel worse. George Bailey was only brought out of rock bottom because of his many great accomplishments. If you don’t have those, then what?
That’s where the other all-time classic Christmas movie comes in.
Charlie Brown also was in a bit of a depression as the holidays approached. The commercialism of the season made him cynical. His classmates’ constant criticism and mockery got to him. He, too, felt unwanted at Christmas. “Everything I do turns into a disaster. I guess I really don’t know what Christmas is all about.”
In stepped Linus to give what has become arguably each year’s most widely-seen proclamation of Jesus Christ. The blanket-toting preacher recited Luke 2:8-14, including, “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.”
Suddenly, Charlie Brown’s troubles didn’t matter anymore.
I have zero interest debating when Jesus was actually born or any of that. That discussion has been had a million times elsewhere.
The point is this: you don’t have to be a monumental figure like George Bailey to be loved, appreciated, and worthy of a place on this earth.
The Creator of the universe being born as a helpless human child because of His love for you tells you all you need to know about your worth.
My continued existence isn’t dependent on whether I’ve contributed enough to justify it. It’s in Jesus thinking enough of me to take on flesh.
And, oddly enough, knowing you don’t have to be George Bailey to matter to God or anyone else makes it far easier to act like a George Bailey. “We love because He first loved us.” That’s Christmas.
If you want to read more on God’s great love for you, pick up my new book You Are Saved: The Christian’s Assurance!
Notes
I am the worst fundraiser in the world and find it incredibly awkward, but as the year’s end approaches, I’m going to make a brief appeal:
Times are very tight in the world of non-profit ministries, and Focus Press is no different. I have been applying for a number of jobs to build supplemental income or to even change full-time work if needed, but as you know, the job market is very difficult and I’ve had little traction.
If you as an individual appreciate my work here, I hope you’ll consider making a tax-deductible donation. Or, for something smaller you can support me on this site ($8/month) or at Bible101 ($5/month) and get 5 eBooks including the brand new You Are Saved as a token of my thanks.
Or, if your church believes in and benefits from the work I do on this site, from my books, from my bulletin articles, from Think Deeper Podcast, and from anything else I’m involved in, please contact me about adding this work to your support budget.
To contact and set up a one-time or monthly donation, email me at jack@focuspress.org
If you can’t financially support the work, I fully understand, but I do ask you to take a moment to say a prayer for me, the Think Deeper crew, and the work we do.
Thanks for reading!
