Isaiah 9:6a – “For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given…”
The prophet Isaiah begins with language so familiar that it’s often read too quickly. Yet within this brief phrase lies a depth of mystery and majesty that anchors the entire gospel. “For unto us a Child is born” speaks of an earthly event–Messiah’s humanity. He was born as all men are born, taking on flesh, entering a specific culture, time, and lineage. The Hebrew word for “born” (yalad) reinforces His full identification with us. This is the miracle of the incarnation: God wrapped in the vulnerability of a newborn child.
But Isaiah doesn’t stop there. He continues, “unto us a Son is given.” This second phrase doesn’t repeat the first–it deepens it. The Child is born, but the Son is given, not created. The eternal Son of God–the second person of the Godhead–was not born in Bethlehem in the way His humanity was. He was given a gift from heaven. The Hebrew word natan (נָתַן) is used throughout Scripture to denote intentional, covenantal giving — often in the context of offerings and sacrifices. This is the divine generosity that would later be unveiled entirely at the cross.
The dual nature of Messiah–fully God, fully man–is not abstract theology; it’s the foundation of your salvation. Only a perfect man could die in the place of mankind, and only God could bear the infinite weight of humanity’s sin. Yeshua (Jesus) didn’t come to Earth as a religious symbol. He came as the ultimate expression of God’s love–clothed in flesh, destined to bleed, and determined to redeem. He is heaven’s answer to earth’s need.
This changes how we approach Him. He didn’t arrive with royal demand but with divine mercy. He didn’t come to take from us — but to give Himself for us. In a world where value is so often based on performance, this truth lifts the burden: your worth is not found in your striving, but in His giving. You don’t work your way to Yeshua; He came to you.
So understand this–not with cold intellect, but with trembling wonder: a Son was given for you. Not loaned, not bargained, not reluctantly offered–but freely, fully, and forever given. Heaven’s most precious treasure was not withheld. The One through whom all things were made stepped out of eternity and into a womb–for you. The radiance of God’s glory wrapped Himself in the frailty of flesh–for you. The eternal Son, co-equal with the Father, laid aside His majesty and embraced mortality–for you.
He was given not merely to inspire you, but to redeem you. Given not to judge, but to justify. Given not to add to your burdens, but to break them. The weight of your sin, your shame, your story–He took it all upon Himself. This is not abstract theology; this is a divine intervention. Heaven bent low and placed its finest jewel into a broken world–for you.
So fall to your knees in awe, and let this reality pierce through every layer of doubt and weariness: You were worth the giving of the Son. Not because of who you are, but because of who He is. And He is love in its purest form, gift in its highest expression, and grace in its fullest measure. Be still–and receive the wonder of His love!
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We’re living in some pretty wild times, aren’t we? Over the past few weeks, we’ve watched a political earthquake shake America, sending ripple effects all over the world. Some people see it as a positive change, others think it’s for the worse — but one thing is clear: we are in a season of shifting. And the big question is, will we take this opportunity to boldly stand for truth while the doors are open?
In the 4th century lived a Christian named Telemachus, in a remote village, tending his garden, and spending much time in prayer. One day, he believed he heard the voice of God telling him to go to Rome, so he obeyed, setting out on foot. Some weeks later, weary from his journey, he arrived in Rome about the time of a great festival.
One of my heroes of the faith, Watchman Nee, once said something profound about entering the rest of God. He said, “Carnal Christians crave works; yet amid many labors, they are unable to maintain calm in their spirit. They cannot fulfill God’s orders quietly as can the spiritual believers… their hearts are governed by outward matters. Being “distracted with much serving” (Luke 10:40) is the characteristic of the work of any soulish believer. They have not yet entered the rest of God.”
Thousands are gathering in Washington D.C. today to pray for the inauguration of the new president of the United States. I know a number of people who will be there and I think it’s a good thing, but this reminds me of a story I heard once.
We arrived at the airport late Thursday night with our bags and our kiddos only to find out that our flight was canceled because of a freak accident — a tractor ran into the plane, of all things! So we repacked our ourselves tightly into a small rental car to make the two hour drive to get back home to Arad in the middle of the night. Our flight was postponed till Sunday.
The Hebrew letter mem, equivalent to our English letter “M,” has a fascinating characteristic: it has two forms. The “open mem” appears at the beginning or middle of a word, with a small opening in its design. The “closed mem,” however, is used exclusively as the final letter in a word, fully sealed in its appearance. This distinction is consistent throughout the Hebrew language—except for one extraordinary exception found in the Bible.
Yeshua (Jesus) gave a remarkable parenthetic instruction in the middle of His Olivet discourse on the time of His coming and the end of the age. While it is unlikely that He himself said this, He certainly inspired Matthew to insert, “..let the reader understand”, concerning this critical event prophesied by Daniel, the Abomination of Desolation. His exhortation intended us (the readers of Matthew’s gospel) to learn what this means.