Christmas is familiar—almost too familiar. We know the songs. We know the scenes. We know how the story goes. And familiarity has a way of dulling the weight of truth. One of the most radical claims of Christmas is found right at the beginning of the story, tucked into one of its very first scenes. One of the most glorious truths of the incarnation is contained in an ancient promise and a simple name.

“All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: ‘The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel’ (which means ‘God with us’).” (Matthew 1:22–23)

Immanuel.
God with us. That’s incredible!

Not God near us.
Not God aware of us.
Not God available if summoned.

God with us.

John puts it even more vividly when he says that the eternal Word “made his dwelling among us” (John 1:14). Eugene Peterson famously paraphrased it this way: Jesus moved into our neighborhood. God with skin on. The One who was from the beginning— he could be heard, seen & touched. He’s here.

From the very start of Jesus’ arrival—baked right into His identity—God was signaling that everything was about to change. God is now in the house. Not distant. Not detached. Not in heaven or in a temple.  God is right here. This is the lens through which we should now understand who God is—and who we are.

And the implications are staggering.

If God is with us, we are never truly alone.
Comfort is always within reach.
Strength is available when we need it most. 
God is not distant or disengaged.
Suffering is never carried alone.
Fear never needs to be faced alone.

There is not a moment of any day when we are abandoned to ourselves or must rely on our own power. There’s not a challenge we face, not a temptation we encounter, not a sorrow we endure where God stands on the sidelines. Immanuel means God is present in real time—not just in theory.

For the past four months, our church has been walking through a sermon series called What If It’s True?—looking at life-changing truths we believe, but don’t always live. And for me, this may be the big one. The fundamental battle. The growth edge of discipleship.

God is with me—right here, right now, in this minute.

Do I really believe that? Could it possibly be true?

For God, the issue is settled. He’s committed. When you came to faith in Jesus, the fundamental nature of reality changed. God did not simply forgive you and send you on your way. He came to dwell with you. Permanently.

So the real question isn’t whether God is with us.

The question is whether we live like it.

Or, as the title of this blog suggests: With or without?

Will I live today acknowledging God’s presence—or will I ignore it?
This hour?
This moment?

Theologians describe this as the tension between God’s transcendence (He is exalted, holy, above all) and His immanence.  (GodHe is near, present, involved). That’s deep stuff—but the application is meant to be intensely practical.  Will I chose to walk with God or without him… today?

You get summoned to a meeting where layoffs will be announced.
With or without?

The doctor calls and says your bloodwork is back and there are some irregularities—he wants to see you.
With or without?

You finally pull out of the driveway for that long-anticipated holiday vacation.
With or without?

You sit around the table with the entire family engaging in unhurried conversation or a fast paced crazy game.

With or without?

You sit down for a difficult conversation.
You face a quiet evening alone.
You wake up anxious at 3 a.m.

With… or without?

Nothing about the circumstance changes in those moments. But everything changes depending on whether you remember—or forget—Who is with you.

Christmas is more than remembering a birth long ago—it’s the declaration that life has been permanently changed. We now live with God’s presence. The only question left is whether I will recognize it and live in step with it.

So today, don’t just ask what you’re facing.

Ask how you’ll face it.

With… or without?