The Angles said to them, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.” Luke 2:10, ESV
Advent always seems to sneak up on us—right between the leftover pumpkin pie and the first frantic Walmart run (or late-night Amazon scroll) of the season. But here we are again, entering these four weeks of waiting, wondering, and preparing our hearts for Jesus. And as we step into this season, we start with the words heaven chose to break 400 years of silence: “Fear not.”
Of all the things the angel could have said to a group of exhausted, overlooked shepherds, God led with courage. Before the announcement, before the joy, before the promise—He spoke directly to their fear. It’s almost as if God knew the weight they carried… and the weight we still carry.
Fear is a quiet companion for many of us during the holidays. Fear of not having enough. Fear of being too much. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the “what ifs.” Fear that maybe this year won’t feel as magical as the last… or that it never really has. Even the bravest hearts can still feel a little shaky when the lights come on and the world tells us to be merry on command.
But the first word of Christmas is God’s gentle interruption: Fear not. Not because everything suddenly makes sense. Not because your circumstances instantly change. Not because you have to muster up some kind of super-spiritual cheer. But because Jesus has come near.
The God who spoke galaxies into existence stepped into our fragile world as a newborn—small, vulnerable, wrapped in ordinary cloth. He entered the story at the bottom of the ladder, in the fields and stables and margins, so no one could ever say, “He didn’t come for someone like me.” From the very beginning, the message has been unmistakable: Jesus is for all. Shepherds. Kings. Young. Old. The overwhelmed, the joyful, the skeptical, the grieving, the hopeful. Every single one of us.
So as we begin Advent, maybe fear doesn’t disappear in a moment. But it loses its authority when we remember who is with us. We don’t walk into this season alone. We walk with Immanuel—God with us. God for us. God who sees us.
A Response for the Week:
Set aside five quiet minutes today. Ask the Holy Spirit to reveal one fear you’ve been holding. Picture laying it down before Jesus, the way the shepherds laid their worries at His manger. Then pray: “Lord, help me receive Your hope. Teach my heart to rest in the promise that You are near and that Your hope is coming into the world.”
And as you go through the week, whisper those first words of Christmas over your own soul whenever anxiety tries to rise: “Fear not.” Jesus has come—and He came for you.