Luke 2:13–14

“And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”

There is a holy moment in the Christmas story where heaven cannot hold itself back any longer. One angel starts the announcement, but before the echo fades, the sky bursts open with a multitude of the heavenly host. It is as if all of heaven leaned over the balcony and said, “We have to praise Him. We have to celebrate this. We have to tell the world what this birth really means.”

Glory to God in the highest. Peace on earth. Good will toward men.

Those aren’t just pretty Christmas words. They are promises wrapped in swaddling clothes.

Glory to God in the highest means God is at work in the lowest places of your life. Peace on earth means peace in you, right in the middle of whatever storm is blowing through your front yard. And good will toward men means God’s heart toward you is kindness, mercy, and grace — not judgment, not distance, not disappointment.

When the shepherds heard that song, everything changed. The cold night felt warmer. The fear felt lighter. Hope broke through the darkness like a star over Bethlehem.

And friend, that same song still echoes over your life today. Heaven still celebrates the Savior who came for you. Heaven still speaks peace into your weary places. Heaven still announces God’s good will toward you, not because you earned it, but because Jesus brought it.

So take a deep breath. Sip that coffee. Look toward the sky with a shepherd’s wonder. The Savior has come, and because He has come, you can walk in peace, stand in hope, and rest in the good will of a God who loves you more than you’ll ever understand.

Glory to God in the highest. Peace to you today.

“The sun shall be no more thy light by day; neither for brightness shall the moon give light unto thee: but the Lord shall be unto thee an everlasting light, and thy God thy glory.” — Isaiah 60:19 (KJV)

Sit with that for just a moment.

Isaiah is painting a picture of a day when the things we normally depend on for light, like the sun and the moon, fade into the background because God Himself steps in and becomes our light.

And I do not know about you, but there have been seasons in my life when the sun felt hidden and the night felt long. Times when I was waiting on something or someone to brighten my world again. Times when I thought, If I could just get a break… if this one thing would change… if this one prayer would be answered… then the light would finally come back.

But Isaiah reminds us of a truth that settles the soul like rocking in that old porch chair with a cup of coffee in hand:

Our light does not come from circumstances. Our light comes from the Lord.

-When the world feels dim, He shines.

-When the night feels heavy, He glows steady.

-When hope seems thin, His glory fills the room.

Friend, the light you need is not waiting on a better day; the light you need is already walking with you.

So lift your head today.

Step out onto the front porch of faith.

Take a slow breath and remind your heart:

God is my light. God is my glory. And God does not run out.

The sun sets.

The moon wanes.

But the Lord, your everlasting light, keeps shining.

And He is shining for you today.

Friend, every now and then a verse steps off the page like a sunrise breaking through the fog, and Titus 2:13 is one of those verses. Paul calls it “that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ.”

Now that phrase—blessed hope—ought to make something inside you sit up a little straighter. Because hope is not wishful thinking for the believer. Hope is confidence with a pulse. It is the steady heartbeat of a soul anchored in Jesus.

Sometimes when I step out on the porch early in the morning, coffee in hand, I look toward the horizon and think, “Maybe today.” Maybe today the One who saved me, walked with me, carried me, corrected me, and comforted me… maybe today He will step out onto the clouds and call His children home. And brother, sister, that thought does something to your spirit.

It lifts you.

It steadies you.

It reminds you that this world is not the end of the story.

Titus said His appearing will be glorious. That means brighter than any sunrise, louder than any storm, more beautiful than any moment we’ve ever lived. All the waiting, all the weary days, all the wondering—washed away in the light of His presence.

But here’s the encouragement: that blessed hope is not just for someday. It is fuel for today. It helps you endure the hard moments, stay faithful in the quiet seasons, and keep walking when the road feels long.

So lift your head. Straighten your shoulders. Let your heart breathe again.

Our Savior is coming.

And until He does, He gives us grace, strength, and joy for every step.

Hold on to that blessed hope. It holds on to you.