OH, HOLY NIGHT

The stars were shining, the air was cold, but the Night was Holy.

On an ordinary winter’s night in a little forgotten town, the God of all creation entered His creation. He didn’t come as a king; He came as a servant. There was no fanfare to greet Him, no riches upon which to lay His head. His bed was a manger filled with straw. He wasn’t greeted by crowds. He was welcomed by the oxen and sheep who made the stable where He lay their home. The stars were shining, the air was cold, but the night was holy.

The Night was HOLY,

though creation,

had yet to know,

the MAKER of HEAVEN

and EARTH had entered 

the world below.

Not in a show of majesty,

where riches waited for Him,

but in a lowly stable,

with rags to swaddle in.

Upon a bed of straw,

He laid His little head,

not in a satin cradle,

but where animals had fed.

The CREATOR of the universe,

shed the LIGHT of HEAVEN,

taking on our fragile form,

so He could bear our sin.

GLORY wrapped in flesh,

bones that could be broken.

Skin that could be scarred.

Words that would be spoken.

“For God so loved the world,

He sent His only Son,

to bear the weight of sin,

though He’d committed none.

To walk among the sinners,

and gather all the lost,

to take upon His shoulders,

the burden of the cross.”

But on that HOLY night,

a little babe lay sleeping,

beneath a star-filled sky,

safe in His mother’s keeping.

The MAKER of HEAVEN 

and EARTH had entered,

the world below, 

to bring the LIGHT of TRUTH,

mankind would come to know.

The God of all CREATION,

Who gave LIFE to everything, 

had come not to condemn us,

He’d come to set us FREE.

JN Fenwick (© 2025)

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JN Fenwick (©2025) | mothjournal14 | All rights reserved. | I DO NOT WALK THIS RECOVERY JOURNEY ALONE.

I’m JN Fenwick.

Wife, mom, but more importantly, a recovering alcoholic with a grateful heart. For years, I struggled, not just with alcohol, but with an eating disorder and the burdens of guilt and shame. On March 22, 2018, I surrendered my life to Christ. I was 51. God did not forsake me. He welcomed me, as undeserving as I am. He did not see my brokenness. Instead, He saw my potential. My Recovery Journey is one of Faith. From the ashes of my failures, God built a fire in me. A fire that guides each step I take. My journey is yours. My healing can be yours, too. God is a mighty warrior. You can take comfort in the promise that the Lord will fight for you and grant you peace.