Strength for the Outsider
It’s night in the fields outside Bethlehem.
The city is crowded.
Homes are full.
Lights glow behind closed doors.
Out here, it’s quiet.
Shepherds sit beside small fires, keeping watch over sheep no one else wants to guard.
They live outside the city walls—
outside respectability,
outside importance.
They are necessary…
but rarely noticed.
They are not waiting for angels.
They are not expecting glory.
They assume this night will end the same way it always has.
Faithful. Quiet. Ordinary.
And then—
It opens in a field.
The angel says,
Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; He is the Messiah, the Lord.”
Not to kings.
Not to priests.
To you.
That’s how the Christmas story begins.
Now, step closer.
Because you know this place.
It’s late.
Most people are already inside—warm, laughing, surrounded.
You’re still outside.
Maybe it’s standing on the edge of a gathering where you don’t quite fit.
Maybe it’s sitting alone in your car after the house has gone quiet.
Maybe it’s scrolling past other people’s joy, wondering why yours feels distant.
You’re doing what needs done.
Showing up. Staying faithful. Carrying responsibility.
And still… unseen.
That’s where God comes.
Mary and Joseph felt it too.
They arrived in Bethlehem displaced, exhausted, misunderstood—
no room, no recognition, no power.
And yet Scripture says,
God chose that place.
That moment.
That kind of weakness.
If this season has made you feel outside the conversation…
behind in life…
unsure where you belong…
hear this gently—
You are not forgotten.
You are not standing in the wrong place.
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
They are holy ground.
You’re not standing in the wrong place.
You’re standing where God has always loved to show up.
So here’s a question to carry with you—
What if this place you wish you could escape
is the very place God is preparing to meet you?
Let’s pray.
God,
meet me here—
not when I feel stronger,
not when I feel included,
but right where I am.
When I feel unseen, remind me that You see clearly.
When I feel outside, remind me that You often work there first.
Give me strength not from approval,
but from Your nearness.
Help me stay open.
Help me trust the quiet faithfulness of this moment.
Help me recognize when heaven draws near.
Amen.
