From the moment Adam and Eve stepped out of Eden, carrying the ache of a world that had changed forever, God whispered a promise into humanity’s brokenness: Someone is coming. Not a theory, not a symbol—a Deliverer. Long before Bethlehem ever held a baby, Heaven held a plan. That promise threaded its way through trembling hands and troubled hearts—through Noah building an ark in a corrupt generation, through Abraham staring at the stars, through David singing songs in caves, through prophets crying out in streets no one wanted to walk. Century after century, God kept weaving His plan through ordinary people who often wondered if God had forgotten them. But He hadn’t. He was aligning nations, shifting empires, preparing a virgin, and choosing a night when eternity would slip quietly into time. When Jesus was born, it wasn’t simply the arrival of a Child—it was the collision of God’s faithfulness with humanity’s deepest need. Bethlehem was not a backdrop; it was a declaration that God steps into the small, the overlooked, and the impossible. The manger was Heaven’s way of saying, “I still keep My word. Even here. Even now.” From that wooden feeding trough, the story marched toward a wooden cross… then to a borrowed tomb… and ultimately to a throne in Heaven where the Lamb now stands as the Lion.

Today, we stand in the space God’s people once occupied—between the promise and the appearing. We don’t wait for His first coming; we wait for His final return, when the skies will split, the trumpet will sound, and every broken thing will bend before the King. And just like ancient Israel, our waiting exposes our hearts. The delay is not distance—it’s mercy. The slowness is not forgetfulness—it’s grace giving the world more time to repent. Every unfulfilled promise is not a question mark; it’s an invitation to prepare. So how should we live in this sacred in-between? Not drifting asleep, but waking up. Not blending in, but standing apart. Not drowning in fear, but rising in faith. The same God who choreographed the first coming down to the smallest detail is the God who has already fixed the hour of the second. If prophecy carried Him to Bethlehem right on time, it will carry Him back to Earth right on time.

Until then, we live as people of light in a world growing darker. We repent quickly. We love deeply. We worship boldly. We serve faithfully. We speak the gospel with urgency because the King is closer than yesterday. Christmas reminds us not only that Jesus came, but that Jesus is coming. And every candle we light, every carol we sing, every scripture we read is a fresh cry of the heart: “Lord Jesus, finish what You started. Come again in glory.”

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Waiting in Holiness, Not Compromise

“And every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even as he is pure.” — 1 John 3:3

The Jews in Jesus’ day longed for Messiah, but many of them had grown more interested in religion than in righteousness. They were waiting, but not all were ready. The same danger exists now. It is possible to talk about the Lord’s return, sing about Heaven, and still live as if He will not come in our lifetime. Scripture does not say, “Everyone that hath this hope studies prophecy charts”; it says he purifieth himself.

The hope of seeing Jesus face to face should make us quicker to repent, more careful with our words, more honest in our dealings, more tender in our relationships. Holiness is not cold rule-keeping—it is loving Christ enough to let Him clean what sin has stained. They waited for His first coming by clinging to the promises; we wait for His second by clinging to the Savior and allowing His Spirit to make us more like Him every day.

There are moments when God gently nudges your conscience and you know—He’s talking to me. Holiness grows in those moments. Not through guilt, but through surrender. Compromise rarely shows up as a loud rebellion; it sneaks in as small permissions we give ourselves: “Just this once,” “No one will know,” “I’m tired,” “It’s not a big deal.” But every small compromise makes waiting heavier and darker. When Christ becomes your reason for living, those quiet compromises begin to feel like sand in your soul. Holiness is simply the daily decision to remove what grieves Him and embrace what pleases Him. Real preparation for His coming begins in the hidden places—your thoughts, motives, screens, conversations, and private habits—long before it shows up in public obedience.

Waiting for Jesus always changes the way you treat people. When you remember that every conversation could be the last one before you stand before Christ, your tone softens, your patience lengthens, and your love deepens. Holiness is not just avoiding sin—it is learning to speak with grace, forgive quicker, apologize sooner, and let go of offenses that want to take root. If Jesus returned tonight, would He find us holding grudges He died to heal? Would He find our homes full of unspoken tension, old wounds, or prideful silence? Holiness restores relationships because it humbles the heart. When you purify yourself, you make room for Jesus not only in your life but in the atmosphere of your home. Holiness sweetens the marriage, softens the parent, heals friendships, and strengthens the church family.

Holiness becomes real when you build it into your routines. It looks like shutting down a conversation that’s drifting toward gossip. It looks like turning off a show because the Holy Ghost whispers, “This is not feeding your spirit.” It looks like catching yourself before you react in anger and choosing a Christlike response instead. It looks like putting Scripture where your phone usually goes first thing in the morning. It looks like confessing sin quickly instead of hiding it in the dark corners of your heart. Those small daily purifying decisions are how you prepare for a Savior who could appear at any moment. Holiness grows stronger when you treat it like worship—not a burden, but a privilege. Every time you choose purity over compromise, Heaven sees it as love for Jesus.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, You are pure, and I want my life to reflect You. Expose every compromise in my heart. Show me where my habits, attitudes, or secret thoughts do not agree with Your holiness. Give me the courage to confess, the grace to repent, and the power to change. Let my waiting for Your return be marked by obedience, not excuses. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Challenge: Ask the Holy Spirit to put His finger on one area of compromise in your life today. Write it down, confess it to the Lord, and take one specific step to walk away from it.

June Cronan

Louise Jackson – Richard’s Sister – Open Heart Surgery

Betty Hammock

Brando Echarte

Cheryl Knight’s Brother

Debbie Foskey 

Don Franklin’s Daughter, Darlene, Son, David

Ed Adkins – Friend of Brian Edwards

Gloria Young

Jake Jenkins

Jean Partee’s Sister

Kim McClain’s Daughter, Amanda

Deon Lotter

Doris Loyd

Nancy Brown

Amy Garner’s Dad

Annette Ford

Andrea Nix– Friend of the Shelnutt’s

Angela Bryan’s Sisters

Ann Stanley  

Carol Lawhead – Riverside in Conyers

Danny Jarrard   

Darlene Wiggins

Doris Loyd

Dr. and Mrs. Davis

Eric Magnusson’s Mother

Eric Ward

Friend of Linda Hodge

Gayle Sparks

Linda Alexander 

James Burnette

Jessica Headrick  

John McClain’s Mother

June Cronan’s Sister

June Davis

Kailey Bateman

Kim McClain’s Mother 

Kim’s Sisters – Ann & Brenda 

Lee Cronan

Lillianna Magnusson’s Mom

Lonzo Christian 

Lori Blount’s Mother

Mary Williams

Mary Williamson – Dana Jackson’s Mom

Mrs. Franklin 

Nora Allison

Ron And Johnnie Barry – Friends Of Ashton & Glenda Bateman

Rose Fuller – Pruitt-Monroe Nursing Home, Forsyth GA

Scott Lanier 

Scotty Nix

Stephanie Seivers – Friend of the Shelnutt’s

Steve Michaels

Tom Witcher