My Endless Notebook

  • The Day after Christmas: Who Are We in the Nativity Story

    Reflections on Faith, Surrender, and Making Room for Christ

    “But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” — Luke 2:19

    Year after year, we return to the story we know so well—the birth of Jesus. We have heard it proclaimed, sung it in carols, and seen it displayed in nativity scenes. Yet this holy story is more than something we remember; it is something that continues to question us. The Nativity is not a silent scene frozen in time. It is alive with voices, decisions, faith, fear, obedience, and worship.

    Today, the day after Christmas is quieter. The carols fade, the gifts are unwrapped, and life slowly returns to its familiar rhythm. Yet the story of Christmas does not end when the celebration is over. In many ways, it is only just beginning. The Nativity is more than a scene we display or a story we retell—it is a mirror held before our lives. Around the manger stand angels and shepherds, Mary and Joseph, wise men and kings, an innkeeper and a newborn child laid in a humble feeding trough. Each one encounters Christ differently. Each one responds in a way that reveals the condition of the heart. And so, on this day after Christmas, the question before us is simple yet searching ….Who are we in the Nativity story? How do we respond now that Christ has come—not just to Bethlehem, but to us?

    The Angel: Bearers of Good News : Luke 2:8–14

    The angel appears to the shepherds with words that still echo through the ages: “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.” The angel did not keep the message—he proclaimed it. He speaks peace into fear and hope into darkness.

    So we ask ourselves: How do we carry the good news of Jesus today? Do our words bring peace, encouragement, and light? Do we allow the peace of Christ to rule in our own hearts before we try to share it with others?

    Mary: Trusting God in Uncertainty – Luke 1:26–38

    Mary received God’s call in a moment that overturns her understanding of the future. She does not have all the answers, yet she responded with trust: “I am the Lord’s servant. May your word to me be fulfilled.” Mary teaches us that faith does not require clarity—only surrender.

    Where is God asking us to trust Him today? What uncertainties are we holding onto? Like Mary, will we say yes to God even when the path ahead is unclear?

    Joseph: Obedience in the Quiet Place – Matthew 1:18–25

    Joseph’s role is often silent, but his obedience speaks loudly. When faced with confusion and fear, he listens to God and chooses faithfulness. Joseph reminds us that following God may lead us down unexpected roads.

    When God’s plan interrupts our own, how do we respond? Do we trust Him enough to obey—even when it differs from our own expectation, or when it costs us comfort or reputation?

    The Shepherds: Responding with Joy – Luke 2:15–20

    The shepherds heard the message and did not delay. Scripture tells us, “They hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby.” Their response was immediate, not meant to linger from a distance, joyful, and contagious, After seeing Jesus, they spread the word and glorify God.

    What is our response to the good news of Christ? Do we run toward the Savior with open hearts? or Do we wait for the right time, more clarity or greater comfort before taking a step of faith? Are we willing to share the joy of Christmas with others?

    The Wise Men: Worship and Offering – Matthew 2:1–12

    The wise men journeyed far, guided by a star, seeking the King. When they found Him, they bowed down and worshiped, offering gifts fit for royalty. Their story asks us: What gift will we bring to Jesus? How will we honour Him as the King of our lives? What are we willing to lay aside to seek Jesus?Will we worship Him not only with words, but with our whole hearts—offering Him the very best of who we are?

    Herod: The Fear of Surrender – Matthew 2:3–8, 16

    Herod heard of the newborn King and is troubled. His fear turned into resistance, his pride into violence. He cannot surrender his throne. Herod’s story invites honest reflection:

    What fears or pride keep us from fully surrendering to Christ? Are there areas of our lives where we cling to control, unwilling to let Jesus reign? Whenever we guard our own throne, we resist the peace of God.

    The Innkeeper: Making Room – Luke 2:7

    “There was no room for them in the inn.” Whether from busyness, distraction, or full schedules, the result is the same—no space for Christ.

    Is there room for Jesus in our hearts today? Have we made space for Him in our lives, or are we too crowded with other concerns? Christ still comes humbly, still knocks gently. Will we open the door and welcome Him as Lord?

    Gracious God, As we stand before the manger once more, Help us see ourselves in this holy story. Where we are afraid, speak peace. Where we are uncertain, teach us trust. Where we resist surrender, soften our hearts. Where our lives are crowded, help us make room. May we be messengers of good news like the angel, Trusting servants like Mary, Faithful and obedient like Joseph, Joyful witnesses like the shepherds, True worshippers like the wise men. And above all, Lord, May we welcome Christ not only into this season, But into every part of our lives. We offer ourselves to You anew, In the name of Jesus, Amen.

  • Chasing Sunrise

    Hooray! Its the weekend….

    I set off to Herald Island today, hoping to catch the first light of dawn to prepare my heart as Lent draws near. There’s something deeply captivating about watching the sky transition from darkness to light – perhaps it is the quiet promise of a new beginning, a gentle reminder that no matter what yesterday held, today is a fresh start.

    As I wandered along the island path, time seemed to slip away unnoticed, its passage gentle and unhurried. In those quiet moments just before the world stirred to life, I couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty of a new day slowly emerging from the stillness of night. It was as if the darkness, with all its mystery and uncertainty, gradually gave way to the warmth and clarity of the sun’s first light. Absorbed in the serenity of the island and the moment, I didn’t realise how much time had passed. By the time I found the perfect spot to greet the sunrise, it had already risen, its amber rays stretching across the horizon, painting the sky with warmth and promise. The chase had ended before it even began .

    But maybe chasing the sunrise isn’t really about catching the first ray of light. Maybe its the journey, the quiet steps taken in the early morning hush, the sacred stillness before the world awakens. Maybe its about learning to embrace the in between, where anticipation meets acceptance, and where we find beauty not just the destination but in the act of seeking itself.

    Life often feels like a chase- after dreams, after clarity, after something just beyond our reach. We set out with expectations believing we fill fulfillment only when we arrive at a certain place at a certain time. But sunrise do not wait to be caught, they unfold on their own time whether we stand ready or arrive a little late.

    And yet even when we miss the first light, the sunshine still greet us, the day still begins. The warmth still touches our skin, and in that quiet golden moment, I am reminded that God’s promise is written in the sky. Every morning, with each sunrise, he offers new mercies, unfailing love and the assurance that we are never alone

    “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Lamentation 3: 22-23

    So maybe the chase is not about reaching something first or perfectly. Maybe it is about learning to walk in faith, trusting that even when we do not see the whole picture, God is already preparing the way.

    This morning, I set out to chase the sunrise, not just for its beauty but because, for me, it symbolizes Lent—a season of renewal, reflection, and a deeper commitment to follow God. Just as the sun rises each day without fail, so does His mercy, His grace, and His unwavering presence. In this time of Lent, I am reminded that faith is not about rushing to a destination but about walking daily with Him, even in moments of waiting and uncertainty.

    And every sunrise is more than just a spectacle of light—it is an opportunity. A new beginning. A quiet invitation to rise again, even when I’ve lost my way. No matter how many times I stumble or lose track, God’s grace meets me in the morning, whispering that it is never too late to return, to realign, and to keep walking with Him.

    I may not have caught the first light, but I found something greater—a renewed assurance that God’s love is steadfast, His promises are sure, and His faithfulness lights the way.

    So I will keep moving forward—not because I have all the answers, but because I trust the One who leads me. And just like the sunrise, His presence will meet me, again and again, with new mercies each morning .

    So I will keep chasing the sunrise, not just the light but the grace it brings…….