Years ago, whilst lighting the “hope” candle for Advent, we read through Isaiah 9 where the light took away the darkness and how the Child’s name would be “Wonderful, Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” I asked the children to tell me some other names of God and they began to rattle them off: “I am who I am”, and “Lion of Judah”, and “Lamb of God”, and then a pure golden one came from my nephew, “Sin Taker!” The absence of religiousity mixed with the hundred percent exquisite truth of it floored me.

I believe that people are born full of purpose and potential. There are no accidents and no mistakes. There is a divine plan and a grand design. Like fingerprints, no two human beings are ever completely alike, and the times and places in which we live allow us to use our gifts to impact those around us in profound and unique ways. History is woven like a tapestry and we all play our part. You and I are priceless. Irreplaceable. The world would be poorer without you in it. Some people are absolutely nailing it; successful, confident and thriving. The rest of us keep asking ourselves: “Am I good enough?”, and “Will I ever match up?”, and “Have I done enough?”, and “Do I even truly matter?”, and “What’s the point of this all?” We kick ourselves for the ugliness of what we thought or did. We live with regrets. We keep making mistakes and eventually decide it would be best to live out a reduced, watered-down version of ourselves. Hidden. Not trying anymore because then we cannot mess up anymore. Not standing out in any way in case we slip up again.

It seems to me that sin and shame are related, like the two ugly sisters. I have also noticed that shame can just as easily dance alone and doesn’t need to be connected to any wrongdoing. You may not have stepped a foot out of line and yet if all the right questions were asked and someone helped you to see clearly, you would discover that at a deep level you have learnt to apologise for being you. I don’t know how it all works – maybe we believe a lie or maybe we agree to accusations made of us, real or imagined. Before we know it, we have compromised and ceased to live out our unrivalled, authentic stories.

Shame is a weakling, yet a powerful captor. Like a tiny ant latching onto our big toe in a nip that debilitates us. Like a gentle mist swirling all around, lighter than feathers yet stopping us in our tracks. It tortures in the hidden recesses of our hearts and sometimes surfaces to the point that it seems to be pulsing along with the blood in our veins. Eyes drop, cheeks burn, arms hang defeated by our sides. We feel sorrow and regret. Our enthusiasm disappears like the air in a balloon with a slow and steady leak. It seems to me that shame causes us to believe that what we did or said is undoable and that the essence of who we are is faulty. Shame sucks the strength out of us and keeps reminding us of the past, to the point that we are not fully living in the present and the bright future promised for us gets stolen.

But there is a Saviour. He was specifically born to save the world. He didn’t come for a human race who are perfect and have it all together. He came for the outcasts and the rebels and the weaklings and the failures. He came for the ones who are messing things up, but who are made by Him, chosen by Him and loved by Him. He came for those who think they will never get it right or make a difference. He takes our filthy clothes off and dresses us in sparkling robes (Zechariah 3.) He says that instead of our shame we will have double honour (Isaiah 61 v 7.) Jesus was born so that He could remove the wrongdoing, guilt and shame that is causing us to live in black and white and preventing us from living out all the wild colours of the rainbow and more.

When John the Baptist saw Jesus he said “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1 verse 29) He is not in the manger anymore. He did what He came to do. Christmas is coming and with it, presents and feasting and families and friends coming together to celebrate. In the midst of it all, let’s listen for the invitation that will certainly be ringing with the bells and floating on the wind. It’s an invitation especially for you; one that you will recognise because it seems custom made. You might need to find a quiet spot away from all the tinsel and traffic and carolling, and yet you might also find Him in the chaos of it all. Receive Him friends —He is the greatest gift of all!