I want you to pause for a moment and consider this: the story of a broken world, longing for justice, mercy, and belonging. I want you to imagine this world as one of many travelers passing through a vast wilderness — battered, hopeful, burdened. Into that wilderness steps a voice — not a distant echo — but a voice that reaches right into our marrow, offering to rearrange our identity, our purpose, our story. That voice calls us not by our résumé, not by our accomplishments,

For centuries, Christians have sung about We Three Kings , painted scenes of three crowned travelers beside a manger, and told children that each wise man brought a single gift to baby Jesus . Yet, when you look at the Gospel of Matthew — the only book in Scripture that records this event — something remarkable stands out. The Bible never says there were three . It never calls them kings . It never places them at the manger on the night of Christ’s birth. And yet, this story