This article was written by Tama Fortner and published by Jesus Calling
I was reading in Exodus today, in chapters 25–28. (Now, you might be wondering what Exodus has to do with the holiday season, but we’ll get there, I promise!) These chapters are where God is telling Moses exactly how the tabernacle is to be constructed. And I’ll confess that when I usually read through these pages of the Bible, I get a bit bogged down in all the details.
Okay, I skim. A lot.
But today—in that way that only the Holy Spirit can orchestrate—it was those details that left me laughing out loud in pure delight.
You see, in Exodus, God meticulously listed out so many specific measurements and materials. Fifty golden rings here. Two pegs there and there and over there too. Threads of blue, purple, and scarlet. On and on the list goes. So many, many details.
And that’s when I glimpsed the sheer magnitude of God’s love for us.
Because He is a God of details.
Let’s dive into that thought for a moment. Let’s think about just a few of the details God keeps in His care.
The stars—can any of us count them? No, not even the most studied astronomer can come close to knowing their actual number. But God not only counts them, He calls them by name (Psalm 147:4). Our Lord clothes the lilies of the field in the finest of robes, even the ones no one will ever see (Matthew 6:28–29). He sees every sparrow that flies and falls (Matthew 10:29). He already knows every day of our lives, keeps our tears in a bottle, and watches over every step we take (Psalm 139:16, Psalm 56:8; Job 31:4). He is intimately acquainted with us—inside and out—right down to the very number of hairs on our head (Psalm 139:2, Luke 12:7).
What does all that tell us? God has His hand in every little detail—the details of the universe, of this world, and of each of our lives. So we can come to Him with every little detail.
Are you like me? When the hard things happen, when I need His power to work in my life in big and mighty ways, I practically trip over myself running to Him for help, for guidance, and to beg Him to show me the way. But the little things? The details? I tend to hold onto those things. I wrestle with them and struggle to sort them out on my own. Why trouble God with such little things?
And when Christmas and the holiday season rolls around, there are so many of those little things. There’s this seemingly endless parade of details that gets added to my life. In addition to all the ordinary (and often already overwhelming!) details of daily life, I’m piling on the planning and the presents, the decorating and the entertaining, the wrapping and baking and picture taking, and, and, and . . .
And I can get lost in all the details. I can lose sight of Him in all the details.
But God . . . (Don’t you just love that phrase?)
God tells us to cast all our cares on Him. All. Because He cares about all our cares (1 Peter 5:7). All the moments, all the wonders, worries, and fears. Every. Little. Detail. Yes, even that tiny one hiding in the corner under the tree.
As I sit here this morning, contemplating all the details of the tabernacle, the stars, the lilies of the field, the tears kept in a bottle, I am overwhelmed. I am breathless with the sheer wonder of God, of His love, of His presence in my life. And I find myself smiling, laughing out loud in sheer delight, filled up with the joy of knowing how dearly I am loved, nurtured, protected, and watched over (Psalm 121:5–6). In every little detail of my life.
And dear friend, so are you.
We serve a God who invites us to pour out our hearts to Him (Psalm 62:8). So this Christmas season, will you join me in taking Him up on that invitation? Let’s tell Him about the worries over time and money and being stretched too thin. Let’s offer up that endless to-do list and ask Him to sift through it, tossing out the unneeded, unnecessary, and unimportant. And most of all, let’s ask Him to guide our hearts to that Little One lying in that long ago manger, to the Son of Man who came to show us the way, to the cross, to the empty tomb, to the Savior . . . and to the love that sent Him here to save sinners like you and me.