We’ve all heard it said that being a mom is a thankless job. Few witness the daily sacrifice and grind parenting requires. On top of the already grueling schedule of raising a family, the Christmas season can add even more stress and expectation to an already full routine. Participating in school holiday activities, buying gifts, and decorating the home to reflect the Christmas spirit can leave even the most organized and self-assured mom feeling depleted, unappreciated, or even forgotten.
Or you may be entering a new season, one where the familiar rhythms of motherhood have shifted. Empty nest, loss, or illness can bring their own kind of ache, leaving you feeling fearful, discouraged, or unsure of your footing.
Scripture tells us that God sees us even in our darkest seasons and most hidden places. When Hagar was rejected and abused by Abraham’s wife, Sarah, she fled alone and terrified into the desert. When the Angel of the Lord appeared to her, He gave her instructions and encouragement. Even in her hardest moments, Hagar knew God heard her, saw her, and had not forgotten her. She became the only person in the Bible to give God a name: El Roi — “the God who sees me” (Genesis 16:13).
What does this have to do with Christmas?
Everything.
Before Matthew tells us about the birth of Christ in the second chapter of his Gospel, he begins with something we’re often tempted to skip: a genealogy. Buried in this long list of forty-two generations leading to Jesus, Matthew does something extraordinary for his time, he includes the names of five women: Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba, and Mary. Each faced scandal, loss, or rejection. Each might have felt unseen or unheard—yet each became part of God’s plan to bring salvation into the world. Their stories remind us that the lineage of grace is rarely neat, but always purposeful.
Tamar’s life was marked by betrayal and injustice. Twice widowed, she was denied her rightful place in Judah’s family line. Scripture tells us that Er, Judah’s firstborn and Tamar’s husband, “was wicked in the sight of the Lord, and the Lord put him to death” (Genesis 38:7). Following the custom of the levirate law,[1] Judah then gave Tamar to his second son, Onan, but he too acted wickedly, and the Lord put him to death as well (Genesis 38:10).” Judah promised that Tamar would marry his third son once he was of age, but he had no intention of keeping that promise. Believing Tamar was responsible for the death of his sons, he sent her away (Genesis 38:11).
Determined not to be forgotten, Tamar sought justice. When Judah failed to give her his third son in marriage, as was her right, she disguised herself as a prostitute. Not recognizing her, Judah approached her and, in exchange for a pledge, gave her his signet ring, cord, and staff. (Genesis 38:26). When he later learned she was pregnant, he condemned her to death. But in a dramatic twist, Tamar revealed Judah’s own belongings, the undeniable proof that he was the father. Confronted by his hypocrisy, Judah declared, “She is more righteous than I”(Genesis 38:26).
Tamar’s courage preserved the family line through which the Messiah would come. Her story shows that God weaves redemption even through scandal and that His purposes cannot be undone by human failure.
God did not forget Tamar and He has not forgotten you. He sees you too, right in the middle of whatever feels heavy and unfair.
Rahab, the Canaanite woman often remembered only by her title ‘the prostitute,’ lived a life that was rarely voluntary and often forced upon young women by desperate parents.[2] Yet her story is one of astonishing faith. Living in Jericho, she risked her life to hide the Israelite spies, declaring, “The Lord your God is God in heaven above and on the earth below” (Joshua 2:11).
God honored Rahab’s faith, courage, and longing for dignity. She married into the tribe of Judah and became the mother of Boaz, the great-grandfather of King David and ancestor of Jesus Christ. Her story is an extraordinary reminder that God redeems even the most broken chapters of our lives.
He sees every courageous and obedient step you take, even the ones no one else sees.
Ruth’s story unfolds in the dark days of the judges, when “everyone did what was right in his own eyes.” A barren, widowed Moabite, left her homeland and pagan gods to follow her mother-in-law, Naomi, and the God of Israel to Bethlehem.[3] Her vow was bold: “For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge.Your people shall be my people, and your God my God” (Ruth 1:16).
As a foreigner from Moab, Ruth had neither a husband nor the support of family to provide for her needs. Yet God honored her loyalty and faithfulness with Boaz, as her kinsman-redeemer who married her and gave her a son named Obed who became the great-grandfather of King David. Obed’s birth foreshadowed Mary’s birth to “the Son of David,” our Redeemer, Jesus Christ, born for all humanity. And both infants were born in Bethlehem.
Ruth’s story reminds us that God weaves His redemption through the most unlikely people. A Moabite widow, with no status, became a key link in the family line of Jesus Christ. Just as Boaz stepped in as Ruth’s redeemer, paying the price to secure her future, Christ came as our Redeemer, entering the world in Bethlehem, the very town where Ruth’s story unfolded.
Ruth’s loyalty and Boaz’s sacrifice foreshadow the greater loyalty and greater sacrifice of Jesus, who came to rescue us and graft us into the family of God.
God noticed Ruth’s bold faithfulness, courage and obedience, just as He notices yours. He’s working in ways you may not see yet, but He hasn’t forgotten you.
Bathsheba’s story is one of deep sorrow and divine restoration. She was the wife of Uriah, one of David’s most loyal soldiers. When David saw her and sent for her, Scripture says he “took her” (2 Samuel 11:4), a phrase that implies coercion, not consent.[4] David’s sin of adultery and murder brought devastating consequences, including the death of their first child.
Yet Bathsheba’s story did not end in tragedy. God redeemed her suffering, and she became the mother of Solomon. Many scholars believe she is the voice behind Proverbs 31—the mother instructing her son, King Lemuel (likely Solomon),[5] about the virtues of a godly woman: strength, faithfulness, wisdom, and the fear of the Lord.
God met Bathsheba in her pain and brought redemption out of it. He is able to do the same for you, no matter what your story holds.
Finally, we come to Mary, a young woman of no worldly status, who found herself with an impossible calling. When the angel appeared to her and announced that she would carry the Savior of the world, Mary humbly replied, “I am the Lord’s servant. May it be to me as you have said” (Luke 1:38).
In a culture shaped by honor and shame, Mary’s pregnancy would have been perceived as adultery.[6] She likely endured humiliation and fear, yet she trusted the God who called her. Through her obedience, the promise of redemption was fulfilled. Mary, the chosen vessel of God, brought forth Jesus, the Savior of the world—the Light who entered our darkness and restored hope to all.
Her courage mirrors the faith of the women before her, ordinary women who trusted an extraordinary God. Through Mary, God fulfilled His greatest promise: the birth of His Son, our Redeemer.
God saw every fear and uncertainty Mary walked through, and He sees yours too. You’re not alone. He is with you.
From Tamar to Mary, these women were not defined by their failures or by how others saw them. They were remembered for their faith. They trusted God in their brokenness, and He redeemed their lives for His glory.
This is the heart of Christmas. Jesus, the Son of David, stepped into humanity not through a spotless family line but through one marked by grace. He chose the unlikely so that none of us would ever have to ask, “Does God see me…does He love me and can He ever use me?”
This Christmas, maybe your story feels a little broken. Maybe you see yourself more in Tamar, Rahab, or Ruth than in some image of “Christian perfection.” If so, take heart. The women in Jesus’ genealogy remind us that God delights in using the overlooked, the outsider, and the undeserving. In Christ, no story is too messy or too far gone for redemption, and no one is beyond God’s love and mercy.
While we may not have had the privilege of being listed in the genealogy of Christ, we can be listed in the Book of Life. All we need to do is turn from doing what seems right in our own eyes, and receive Jesus, the One who makes us right in His.
This Christmas, may your heart rejoice in El Roi, the One who sees you, redeems you, and calls you His own.
Merry Christmas 🎄
[1] Deuteronomy 25:5–10. See Victor H. Matthews, Manners and Customs in the Bible (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2006), 133–35, for background on the practice.
[2] Joshua 2:1; 6:17, 22–25. On the socioeconomic realities of prostitution in the ancient Near East, see Carol Meyers, Discovering Eve: Ancient Israelite Women in Context (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), 151–55; K. van der Toorn, “Female Prostitution in Payment of Vows in Ancient Israel,” Journal of Biblical Literature 108, no. 2 (1989): 193–205; and Victor H. Matthews, Manners and Customs in the Bible (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2006), 164–66.
[3] Ruth 1:16–17. Moabites were historically hostile to Israel (cf. Deut. 23:3–6), which makes Ruth’s vow all the more striking. On Ruth’s countercultural pledge and the radical nature of her loyalty, see Daniel I. Block, Judges, Ruth (New American Commentary 6; Nashville: Broadman & Holman, 1999), 632–35; and Robert L. Hubbard, The Book of Ruth(New International Commentary on the Old Testament; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1988), 110–15.
[4] Paul Carter, “Was Bathsheba a Victim or a Seductress?,” The Gospel Coalition Canada, March 5, 2018, https://ca.thegospelcoalition.org/columns/ad-fontes/was-bathsheba-a-victim-or-a-seductress/.
[5] Proverbs 31:1. “Lemuel” is traditionally identified as King Solomon, with “his mother” understood to be Bathsheba. This interpretation appears in Midrash Mishlei 31:1 and is supported by Keil and Delitzsch, Commentary on the Old Testament: Proverbs.
[6] Kenneth E. Bailey, Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes: Cultural Studies in the Gospels (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2008), 33–38. Bailey explains that Mary’s pregnancy would have placed her within the social framework of honor and shame that dominated first-century Jewish culture, leaving her vulnerable to public disgrace and even stoning under Mosaic law (cf. Deut. 22:23–24).
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This brings comfort to so many
Knowing God is always in our mess
Thank you for reminding us how much we are loved by our God