by Hannah De Cleene | Dec 17, 2025 | Literature
In a season of merry and bright,
My joy is gone, nowhere to be found.
Endless worries fill this silent night
And hope, a mere shadow on the ground.
Once, I cherished the time of Christ’s birth,
Relished the promises brought to life
When this God-child entered the earth
To end the curse of our sin and strife.
What erased the wonder in my heart?
When did I let awe depart?
No one sees my lonely, aching soul,
Countless problems and woes strike me blind,
Conflicting loves that demand control,
Constantly robbing my peace of mind.
This season, I’ve nothing to offer
But all my apathy and sorrow.
As an unhappy, morose scoffer,
My heart grows weary each tomorrow.
In the depths of this negativity,
Is there hope in the nativity?
Then a still, small voice whispered to me,
And slowly I begin to recall,
What unfolded ere He came to be?
I recounted stories learned when small.
In the beginning, Job blessed the Lord,
Enduring a harsh, unforeseen test.
His lot rang out a dissonant chord,
A dirge of isolated distress.
Joseph boasted of dreams to his brothers,
Which set in motion unwelcome change.
Forced and enslaved under another,
Imprisoned, deserted, and estranged.
God promised Abram a family tree,
But self-reliance led him astray,
He brought division of great degree
With mistrust in the Divine’s delay.
Jeremiah wept over his race
Yet mixed his sorrow with self-pity.
He failed to stop Israel’s disgrace
And exile from their loved city.
A shepherd, David faced many tests,
But clung to the living King of Kings.
A boy beat a giant, who’d have guessed?
He ushered in peace with his harp strings.
Time and again, he made inquiries
Pleading with the God of creation.
David knew 10,000 victories,
Beloved ruler of the nation.
But his life was marred by grievous sin.
His lies led to the death of many,
He acted coldly to his own kin,
Craving, killing, but having plenty.
In the end, every prophet, priest, and king
Bore the marks of sin’s deadly sting.
All this ancient, broken history
Brought the arrival of the Holy One,
Unmasking a divine mystery:
God gave hope in the gift of His Son.
As a boy, He also knew His fate,
But responded with humility.
In the wild, under temptations’ weight,
He spoke with truth and tranquility.
He didn’t rush the time of God’s plan
But learned obedience from above.
He never bowed to the will of man
But rested well in His Father’s love.
As the Shepherd, He opened the gate
So we could know His life-giving rest.
Our Warrior made the crooked straight
Bringing salvation to all oppressed.
Vainglory never captured Him,
Self-pity never entangled Him,
Impatience never defeated Him,
Suffering never embittered Him,
Mistreatment never defined Him,
Disappointment never ruled Him.
That faint whisper began to roar clear:
I erased the wonder in my heart
As I let my faults, failures, and fear
Pull me under and tear me apart.
The stories of old mirror my own;
Not one of us is messianic.
We are all messy down to the bone,
But should this give us cause for panic?
Life’s not always so merry and bright
But that’s why this Child came to earth.
His precious life gives mankind true sight
For in Him our souls find deathless worth.
He lived perfectly, as I could not—
Oh, the wonder born in me anew—
To give selflessly what I have not.
Oh, let this joy forever ring true.
by Hannah De Cleene | Feb 14, 2025 | Literature
Love is patient and kind,
Enduring all the days,
And diligently finds
Ways to grant you peace of mind.
Love bears no ill will.
How can it?
To love is to instill
Hope for your good-will.
Love does not aspire to boast
Of oneself
Never seeks a lauded toast
But speaks of you most.
Love is not conceited,
Or navel-gazing,
But each day you are greeted
With humility deeply-seeded.
Love never acts indecently;
That is not its nature.
Love thinks of you frequently,
Seeking your joy gleefully.
Love is never self-centered—
What a contradiction—
Love’s service to you is repeated
In self-sacrifice, fully surrendered.
Love never provokes
Causes irritation,
Or whispers an unfeeling joke,
But is a kindness fitly spoke.
Love keeps no record of your wrongs,
Remembers no offense,
Sees good in you all along
As joyful words fill its evensong.
Love does not rejoice in your crooked ways,
But upholds truth,
Celebrates when you obey,
And points to His good pathway.
Love illumines in every darkness
Protects in every storm,
Bolsters in every doubt,
And sustains in every uncertainty.
Love is patient and kind,
And when befriend
You’ll be resigned
To grant others this same peace of mind.
by Hannah De Cleene | Dec 24, 2024 | Literature
As I hang our stockings with care,
I ponder life with a blank stare
Busy with thoughts and worries,
Always feeling in a hurry.
Some of us fill our minds with what-ifs,
Not just discovering rare perfect gifts
But wondering if the worst will come to be
Waiting for peace gifted under our tree.
Some of us fill our days with tasks,
Believing all our doing masks
The emptiness we feel,
Wondering if the gift of hope is real.
Some of us fill our thoughts with green-eyed intent
Wanting more and yet always discontent
Success becomes what we crave again and again
Wishing joy’s gift wasn’t forever detained.
As I pause to ask, “What good is this time of year?
Is it only to highlight our failures and fears?
Can the birth of this Child,
The one called meek and mild,
Offer something more?
Is there something I haven’t considered before?”
God sent His only Son as an infant,
That alone makes this story different.
He didn’t arrive as a mighty warrior
Defeating Israel’s enemies.
He didn’t come as a political powerhouse
Deafening high society’s murmurings.
He didn’t emerge as a wise philosopher,
Debating all the questions of the intelligentsia.
Instead, He had a beginning akin to ours.
He grew from a single cell,
Demonstrating a different kind of power.
He grew as a boy to dwell
Among His own people until the hour
He would sacrifice Himself for mankind,
Exactly as His Father had designed.
From infancy to manhood,
He lived as we lived,
Struggled as we struggled.
He saw how hope diminished, joy deflated, and contentment disappeared.
But unlike us, joy flourished in His soul.
He knew that He alone could make us whole.
The Sinless One from above,
Defined the true meaning of love
He lived the same struggles we face,
Died to offer forgiveness and grace
And rose again to defeat our sin
Granting us the gift of peace within
That’s why this time of year,
Brings to life such great cheer.
He heals our weary souls
With joy to make us whole.
“What good is this time of year?
It does more than highlight our failures and fears.
The One called meek and mild
Offers man a chance to be reconciled.
His birth offers us more.
That’s what I didn’t consider before.
His arrival was just the start
Of how He would heal our hopeless hearts.
For this Child brought what God decreed
Salvation for sinners—man’s greatest need.
Hope arrived for all the earth
With the coming of our Savior’s birth.
by Hannah De Cleene | Dec 24, 2024 | Theology
In our age of technology, we are bombarded with picture upon picture of the “good life”— the idyllic home, the growing family, the prestigious promotion, etc., and while those things in themselves are not wrong, sometimes our desires for what others have can become all-consuming, filling us with discontentment. As we look again in Luke 1, Elizabeth undoubtedly knew the stings of comparison.
Scripture tells us she was righteous, blameless, yet unmistakably barren, remaining obedient while longing for a child.
Most of us know the aches of waiting in our own ways. Perhaps you are waiting for a career to start, for a spouse to come along, or for a family to start. And in that waiting, people often give us their opinions, which at times can be helpful but many times end up being salt in our wounds. The people in Elizabeth’s time didn’t appear to offer the most encouraging words in her years of waiting.
The Taunt of Others
There is but one verse about Elizabeth in this scenario, and these words explain much of her story. In response to hearing about Zechariah’s visit from Gabriel (Luke 1:1-23), she responds with gratefulness.
Thus the Lord has done for me in the days when he looked on me, to take away my reproach among people. (1:25)
To take away my reproach among people. The word “reproach” carries the idea of disgrace, even taunt, and this isn’t the first time in Scripture that reproach has been connected with a woman’s barrenness.
In Genesis, Rachel is finally given the gift of a child:
She conceived and bore a son and said, “God has taken away my reproach.” (30:23)
In 1 Samuel, Hannah is struggling with her barrenness, along with taunts from her husband’s second wife.
And her rival used to provoke her grievously to irritate her, because the Lord had closed her womb (1:6)
Have you ever felt the taunt or disapproval of others? As children, we can think of the quintessential bully from childhood: the cool kid belittling the nerdy genius and Miss Popular spreading rumors about the new girl. Our experience in adulthood may not be as dramatic, but we feel the reproach of others when they bask in their amazing career or flaunt their picture-perfect home—feelings of inferiority creep in as we stand next to them.
My years of singleness taught me a lot about the opinions of others. For years I wondered if God would bring the right man along as I longed to be a wife and a mom. My best friends were getting married and having babies—why couldn’t that be me? My thoughts were filled with comparison, adding weight to my ache. On top of that, I was met with comments like “Have you tried online dating? Are you being too picky? You know Hannah, you might just be too intimidating.” I often let this commentary fuel my discontentment.
Elizabeth’s Response to God’s Timing
I am not sure what kind of critiques filled Elizabeth’s years of waiting for a child or if she struggled much with comparison. She knew the battle of wanting a good thing, and yet at the same time, Elizabeth led a godly life (Luke 1:6). The words that come from her mouth in this narrative continually point to God’s goodness. In verse 25, Elizabeth echoes the words of the faithful women who have gone before her, relishing in the joy that God looked upon her, just like He took notice of Hagar in Genesis 16, Sarah in Genesis 21, and Hannah in 1 Samuel 1. And He didn’t just notice her but looked on her with favor — this phrase means to fix one’s gaze upon, to look at with concern, to regard. She cherished that God had seen her and cared about her disposition.
And not only did Elizabeth praise God for seeing her, but she also did not compare her blessing with Mary’s. Later in Luke 1, when Mary comes to Elizabeth, Elizabeth praises God for His work in Mary’s life. “And how is it granted to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?… Blessed is she who believed there would be a fulfillment of the word spoken to her from the Lord.”
I find this remarkable because Elizabeth had more years of obedience than young Mary and likely walked through the shame and pity from others for her barrenness. But Elizabeth rejoiced in God’s timing in her life and Mary’s, showing a grateful and contented heart.
The People
I’ve often wondered why Elizabeth kept herself in seclusion for the first five months of her pregnancy. One possibility is that she knew people wouldn’t believe her if she told them of her pregnancy. If I had been one of her neighbors, what would my response have been? Would I have presumed her barrenness was a curse from God? Would I have looked down on her, and like Job’s friends, assumed she must have had some secret sin to cause her childlessness? I know my heart, so the likelihood of these kinds of thoughts would have been high.
Isn’t it easier to critique than sit with someone in their struggle? We offer quick solutions or commentaries and somehow feel superior, assuming we would respond much better if we found ourselves in the same situation. We fool ourselves. James tells us that every good gift we have is from above (James 1:17). Instead of judging or brazenly assuming we have greater wisdom than those around us, in Romans 12 God calls us to weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice, an often harder task, but one that Elizabeth exemplifies beautifully.
The Contented Waiter
Elizabeth offers us both encouragement and a challenge. Encouragement is found in knowing God sees us in our waiting, just like He saw Elizabeth. No painful comment or lonely night escapes His attention. But Elizabeth’s reaction also brings a challenge as her response revealed a grateful, contented heart; she entrusted her life to God’s care and goodness all while living in daily obedience, thanking God for His work in her life and those around her.
What Fills Us
As we come to the close of this Advent season, we hope you can relate a little more to a familiar story. Despair, fear, apathy, and comparison— these reactions are common to our hearts. And while the shape of our struggles may be different, our selfishness and self-reliance fill us all with sin. Yet as Paul exclaims in Ephesians 2, “ But God.” Our God rich in mercy showed us His love through His Son, the One who came as a baby. He lived among us so that He might take our place, die for us, and offer an escape from sin’s chains. Only through a relationship with Him can we ever be filled with things like hope, wonder, anticipation, and contentment (and so much more). May the words of this beloved carol fill our souls this Christmas.
God rest ye merry gentlemen
Let nothing you dismay
Remember Christ our Savior
Was born on Christmas Day
To save us all from Satan’s pow’r
When we were gone astray
Oh tidings of comfort and joy
Comfort and joy
Oh tidings of comfort and joy
by Hannah De Cleene | Dec 17, 2024 | Theology
Maybe your introduction to the Magi of Matthew 2 was similar to mine—more musical than theological. As a child, the Christmas carol, “We Three Kings of Orient Are” told me there were three kings to go with the three gifts mentioned in the song: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Logically, I thought there must have been three camels (even though most nativity sets only come with one or two) and concluded they were thoughtful men coming a long way with some unusual baby gifts. As I grew up, I learned from hearing my pastor preach on the account in Matthew 2 that these men were important historical figures, and probably came with an impressive entourage. I did not realize, until a recent dig into some of our old seminary reference books, (The Zondervan Pictorial Encyclopedia of the Bible, in case you are interested) the extent of their power and impact.
Those columns filled with historical information told more than we have time or space for here, but a few of those facts deepened my understanding of these men and their mission.
The Magi showed up in history in the 7th Century BC as an emerging tribe and in the 6th century became heads of the state religion by declaration of the king of the Medes. Most of us, however, find this combination of Chaldeans, Medes, and Persians doesn’t capture our attention until we read the book of Daniel and realize that the Jewish people are also intertwined with these nations. Daniel, captured by the Babylonians and trained in all their knowledge, eventually held high office among the Magi and was appointed their chief, or Rab Mag (Daniel 4:9). Still, he never abandoned his faith in the One, True God.
The writings of Daniel and Isaiah were both available to the Magi we read about in Matthew 2, not as three kings on camels, but as powerful, religious/political leaders, complete with military escort, seeking the king foretold hundreds of years in the past. Their motivation may have been academic curiosity, or political power, seeking a king they thought they might be able to install to their benefit. Whatever their reasons, they believed the prophecy and came to Jerusalem in complete anticipation of finding a king.
What about the religious leaders already in place in Jerusalem? We first hear of them in Matthew 2:4-6. Herod, in his terror of being overthrown by another king, called for the chief priests and scribes. Who were they?
In the Old Testament, the priests were entrusted with ministering at the altar, burning sacrifices, and teaching the law (Deuteronomy 33:8-10). The scribes were not simply those who wrote but were essentially interpreters of the law. One author called them men “schooled in the law and religious wisdom, understanding the implications of both written law and oral traditions.” As experts in the Law and the Prophets, we’d expect some sort of reaction from them at the Magi’s arrival. Instead, when a terrified Herod demanded information from the chief priests and scribes, they rattled off:
‘And you, O Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for from you shall come a ruler
who will shepherd my people Israel.’”
but even the possibility that the prophesied King of Kings had arrived does not appear to have rattled them. After 400 years of God’s silence, there is no evidence that the chief priests and scribes traveled the five or six miles from Jerusalem to Bethlehem to investigate what should have been the most exciting news of their lives. Instead, the next time we find the chief priests and scribes mentioned in Matthew, they are no longer apathetic. This Jesus did not fit the image they had of the Messiah, and twice He tells the disciples He would suffer and be killed at the hands of the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and by the end of the book of Matthew, we see the chief priests among those plotting His death. Thankfully, both times Jesus told of his coming death he ended with, “and he will be raised on the third day.” The apathy that turned to murderous anger still did not stop the plan of God for our salvation.
What About Us?
In a recent sermon about the virgin birth, our pastor said, “It was not a human decision, but God’s decision to humble the world by using humble people.” Thankfully, there is also room for the rich and powerful, like the Magi, if they are willing to humble themselves before God and receive His gift of salvation. We may not know what fueled their anticipation to find the King, but we know that when they found Him, the Magi fell down in worship and obeyed the instructions not to return to Herod.
I’d love to say I have nothing in common with the chief priests and scribes, experts in the Scriptures, yet unmoved when the Truth arrived in human flesh. I would love to say that, but sometimes I overly anticipate the wrong thing and can be apathetic about the truth that should change me. I pray that meditation on this passage will humble us in worship like the Magi, and apathy is replaced with celebration of our Savior’s birth and anticipation of His coming again.
