Mosaic (Dec 12)
- Amber Thiessen
- 12 minutes ago
- 4 min read
“Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people” (Luke 2:10)
In our little African village, I often chuckled at how the rhythms of passing news mirrored small-town prairie life back home.
I woke to the morning pounding of rice, the crowing roosters, and the slap of rubber flip-flops along the dusty path. Women on their way to fetch water or gather produce called out greetings as they passed our home—sometimes stopping to chat, always ready to share whatever news the night had brought, laying their machete and plastic pails down on the ground to relay the news.
Whether in a village or a prairie town, people carry news like water—passing it from one heart to another. It’s not much different from the updates we trade at coffee shops, grocery aisles, or community events. News is meant to be shared.
But news isn’t always joyful. Those mornings brought sorrow—families grieving a loved one, or, in our context, another unbeliever stepping into eternity without Christ. A mournful hush settled over the village as we prepared to attend a funeral and visit the family.
This mix of joy and grief echoes the story of God’s people long before Christ came. Israel had waited generation after generation for the Messiah.
Think about the last time you had to wait for something you wanted.
Even now, we struggle with delayed gratification—buying gifts early, then using them before Christmas arrives.
If we find a few weeks hard, imagine a people waiting centuries.
But we are still a people in waiting—and maybe that’s where our daily struggle lies.
We wait for Christ’s return, when He will make all things new—when sin, temptation, and the weariness of our flesh will fall away in His perfect kingdom.
And it was the waiting that made His birth such a deep and startling joy.
The laboured prayers, the patient hopes, the long-carried prophecies—all of them built a longing that only the Messiah could satisfy.
The gospel is good news and it brings us great joy.
“Good news” translates the Greek word euangelion—a term used for announcements that carried joy strong enough to change a person’s world.
Tim Keller reminds us, “The birth of the Son of God into the world is a gospel—good news, an announcement. You don’t save yourself. God has come to save you.”
Ronni Kurtz adds, “Theologically grounding the gospel roots our joy in a story where we receive the reward of Christ because He received the punishment for our sin. There is fuel enough in this news for a lifetime of joy.”
We’ve wandered through a busy Advent—joy and excitement mingling with the ache of grief as we miss the traditions Mom carried so faithfully. Her presence in the kitchen, her way of serving and loving—those memories rise and fall through the season.
And as the bustle carries on, the euangelion speaks again: great joy is found in Christ. His peace steadies us. His presence holds us. His love remains when grief and sorrow press in.
Good news of great joy.
May we be a people humbled in waiting and joyful in celebration as we remember the good news of the Lord Jesus this advent season.
On the Blog
In Articles
"Spirituality does not show its true colors during times of comfort and ease, but in times of discomfort, annoyance, and even heartache."
When articles travel my feed along the same themes, I take a minute to pause. How do these truths imapct me today and in this season? "If God is working all things for my good, and He is, then sometimes that means He will sacrifice my comfort for my good."
I think as the years go on we realize many more ways our bodies can fail us. Even if you had uncomplicated deliveries and have been relatively healthy, we all eventually face the question of our broken bodies. Lara writes, "We groan, and all creation groans, because of the scars of sin and the scars it leaves on us. Our greater hope isn’t on everything becoming perfect here, but that one day all will be restored in heaven. Our grief and pain will be wiped away with perfect love found in being present with our Father and Saviour. All will sing in harmony again. But until then, we live in this broken world listening to it sing out of tune.""
I won’t pretend I’m great at prayer or that our family has it all figured out. But we’re trying. And in the swirl of recent decisions—tryouts, opportunities, new commitments—I’ve been grateful to hear my kids say, “Let’s pray about it first.”
It humbles me. It gives me hope. And it reminds me that as we keep pressing into prayer, however imperfectly, we’re planting habits in them that will grow far beyond this season.
Well, it has been a frantic December thus far and I'm so grateful for Keri's reminder of God's promise of peace.
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