In Kangundo, Kenya, I visited the home of my host’s mother. She lives in a small apartment with one of her sons and her daughter. They share a living space, not much larger than 10 x 10 feet.
It’s the custom in Kenya, that a guest never leaves the home without being fed, or at least being served the national drink: tea. Generally, tea is served Kenyan style, which means that the tea is brewed in milk rather than water; but for the poorest of the poor, it is made with water.
Isaac’s mother humbly poured the hot black tea water from the spout in the carafe into a chipped mug. She was worried that it might not be sweet enough, but it was perfect. This dear Christian woman, who raised a large family without a husband, was embarrassed that she had nothing to serve me but boiled water flavored with a little black tea.
I took the cup and was so grateful. She was the only person in Kenya to serve me American-style tea! Her meager gift was the closest thing to home I’d had in two weeks.
At Christmas, the season becomes about what we give or how much we give. Christmas, however, is about how much God gave to us.
He could have given to us the universe, but instead the Father gave us what was most precious to Him – His Son.
For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life (John 3:16).