Christ Child

Christmas. So many ideas whiz through my head like snowflakes. I’m not even totally clear on the one before the next flutters past. The overall feeling is magical, mystical, immortal.

Newborn Babe.  The Christ Child.  Coming into your life so small and unintrusive, but unique and fascinating.  This one is so like any other baby, but much, much more. His presence, as He toddles around, forces inconvenience upon you, prying into forgotten corners and hidden closets, until He knows you better than you know yourself. He grows in your heart until, full grown, He’s become so much a part of you that you are indistinguishable without Him. Your legacy is Him –

The manger scene. Utter silence, the smells of warm animals and fresh straw, the feeling that something special is here. It bids us look, but that act seems so brash. And besides, we’d have to go out back, into the dirty barn with the tools, beasts, and unwanteds. I so want to go look, but what would people think?

I stay here with the rest of the inn’s guests, where we’re expected to abide. I only get the briefest glimpse of the miracle in the barnyard, and I cannot see the baby’s face. I can see the others’ faces, though, and they are filled with awe. Even the animals are entranced by Him. Strange that all these people eating and drinking and singing minstrel songs are so unaware of what is just outside. Only the wise men, when they arrive later, gaze openly on the Babe. I am so disarmed by even catching this small picture through the frame of my window –

A Word on a page. The Word made flesh – human like me. Male, but like no man I’ve ever known. So aware of what goes on inside me and what makes me tick. He brings me up short every time I hear His voice, or even hear reports of Him – yet I feel so loved at the same time. Love like I’ve never known before. He calls me to receive and give, to be a servant and His sister, to show others the way and to rest. It’s all so confusing and yet, deep down, everything begins to make sense –

The creative power of the universe, growing inside me like ivy – it scares me as it takes over, and I’m tempted to remove it. But its presence is soothing and tender, like chamomile; sweet purple flowers put me at ease and I let it grow.  Every so often I see how big it’s grown and cry out to the One who planted it: “Are You sure? Will I be safe? I’m so afraid!”

Do not fear, for I am with you. I AM with you.

My fears calm and I let the Word, made flesh within me, continue to take over. And I find myself not just well, but thriving.

Hallelujah! All I have is Christ
Hallelujah! Jesus is my life

Hallelujah! All I have is Christ
Hallelujah! Jesus is my life

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