Recently the Hubble telescope discovered a new star, Earendel. At 28 billion light years away, it is now considered the farthest star from the earth. Pondering that fact allows us to see the vastness of God’s creation and his almighty power to both create such marvels and take care of them. Yet, sometimes as we gaze at the starry sky or stand at the ocean shore, we may feel tiny and unimportant. As we await answers to prayers, experience the heartbreak of loss, and struggle through situations that aren’t resolving according to our plan, we can feel abandoned and alone. We may wonder if God has gotten caught up in governing the other matters of this giant universe and has forgotten about us.

Even on the days when it may feel like God is far from us, he is not. God’s Word and his promises remind us of the truth. “But now in Christ Jesus, you who once were far away have been brought near by the blood of Christ” (Ephesians 2:13). Although by nature our sins separated us from God, the blood of Christ brought us back together. Another promise reminds us of our importance in God’s eyes. “Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground without the knowledge and consent of your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all numbered. So do not be afraid. You are worth more than many sparrows” (Matthew 10:29-31). The same God who sets the stars in place and orders the seas to rise and fall has time to care for the tiniest sparrow and number the hairs on our heads.

As we peer into the manger this Advent season, we see another reminder of that truth. God orchestrated the history of the world so that his Son could enter at just the right moment to fulfill every promise ever made. He wasn’t about to leave his creatures alone to wallow in their sin. Rather, when the time was right, he came to earth and became flesh—for us. He subjected himself to the limits of time and space—for us. He was born into a sinful world; experienced hunger, exhaustion, and grief; and died the death of a criminal—for us. Certainly this same God who put a new star in the sky to mark his Son’s birth hasn’t forgotten about the reason he sent that Son in the first place—for us.

The words “let’s go to Bethlehem” are for you and me as well. While we may not be able to physically hold the Christ-child like Simeon or kneel beside his manger like the shepherds, he is present in our lives. He comes to us in Word and Sacrament, strengthening and sustaining us and filling us with his presence. This Advent season, as we journey to the manger to worship Immanuel, let’s pause on the significance of that name: not God from afar or God for them, but “God with us.”