Last night at the opening of our Christmas Eve church service, the Pastor invited all the children up to the altar and read them the Christmas story. Alex marched up there with all the confidence in the world and sat right next to Pastor Jerry and listened with such concentration. When the story was finished, he came back to us, sat down, and proclaimed with such innocence and certainty, "Mom and Dad, Harper is a baby like Jesus and she looks just like him!"
In that moment, the reality of what the night of Jesus' birth truly meant to the world hit me. What it meant to us. To our Heavenly Father. He sent us His SON. His flesh and blood. But not in the grandeur of a King or a Noble World Leader. He came as a Child. As a helpless, crying baby.
This clip was also played at the opening of our church services, and one line in particular really struck a chord in my heart..."When the journey to the cross began with a shrill cry."
It's easy to imagine Jesus as an adult--preaching the Gospel, performing miracles and walking the Earth. I don't know that I'll ever be able to fully wrap my head around the fact that He came to us as a baby, especially after looking into the eyes of my own two babies and knowing how much I love and adore them. The love our Father has for us is more than that--it's bigger and grander than anything we can ever comprehend. And yet...He came to us in the smallest, most helpless way possible. God is real. God is good.
Merry Christmas, my friends!
1 comment:
Amen and well said.
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