A Silent Christmas

Christmas in the Sahara desert is so quiet. Few people around us know it’s Christmas, and even fewer care. Life goes on as normal. Shepherds milk the cows. Bricklayers build homes. Men go to the mosque. Women head to the market. As far as Christmas goes, there’s nothing. You’d never know it was there if you didn’t know.

I imagine how quiet it must have been when the greatest miracle of all time took place—Mary, far from home, giving birth to the Savior of the world. The world just went on while an earth-shattering event was taking place. A few heard, and a few sang songs of joy.

But mostly, there was silence.

My teammates and I are here because of the silence. The Muslim men, women, and children around us have no idea about the miracle of Immanuel. Just as our missionary God left heaven to bring hope to the entire world, we are sent to proclaim it to the largest unreached people group in Africa.

One day, this silence will be filled with songs of new worshipers.

Even in this pervasive silence, the miracle is still true. Few may have rejoiced at our Savior’s birth. But that didn’t make the miracle any less powerful or significant. It is good news for all peoples.

As Christ’s followers, we are called to the silent places. Jesus calls us to the broken places, the lonely places, the humble places—the places where hope is needed, where hope is coming.

Isaiah 9:2 says, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light dawned.”

The absence of worship around us will never weaken our expectant hope that every tongue, every tribe, and every nation will praise Him. He is the King of all nations, the Hope of all peoples, the Light that overcomes every darkness.

One Christmas day, this silence will be filled with songs of new worshipers declaring, “Glory to God in the highest!”

Our Savior has come. Hallelujah!