One of my favorite things about Christmas is getting ready
for it. Getting out the boxes of decorations,
placing each significant and memorable ornament on the tree, lighting up the
house and inviting as many family and friends over as I can possibly pack into
one season.
This year, as I was “getting ready,” I pulled out the
nativity sets. I probably have too many…for
such a small house, nevertheless, I got them out….and one by one set them in
place on as many shelves as I could find.
I have the one that I used to place under the tree when my children were
little, a hand-made one that Jeremy brought back from Uganda, the Precious
Moments that my Mom’s dear friend Brenda gave her, and the crystal one given to
my Mom only by Aunt Jewel. I had already declared this Christmas to be
sacred and holy. I had vowed not to be so
caught up in the hustle-bustle that I would miss out on the awesome worship and
focus on the Savior of the world.
As I placed the manger scenes all over the house, I began to
picture myself as a character in the set.
I could see myself kneeling before the manger, adoring the baby
Jesus. Sometimes as I pray, I picture
myself kneeling before the throne of Heaven, or at the foot of the cross, or
simply at the feet of Jesus. I like to
picture myself right before Him. But this year, it just didn’t seem to be
enough to kneel at the manger. I had the
strange urge in my spirit to just reach out and pick up the baby Jesus and hold
Him in my arms. Pick Him up?!? Isn’t that just a little too personal? Maybe a little inappropriate….I mean, He is
GOD. Really? Just
even the thought of it….well… honestly, it just seems a little too intimate.
Exactly. So this season, I dared to reach out for the
untouchable. I embraced the baby wrapped
in swaddling clothes. The Christ. I have sat by the manger, holding the baby. Holding God.
I have looked into the innocent face of this infant child, the Christ,
the Messiah, the hope of the world. I
have tried to wrap my mind around a God, with all power, wisdom and glory, who
would allow Himself to be captured in a tiny body of flesh...A God
who would become completely dependent on a human race who had already rejected,
forgotten and turned from Him...A God who would leave a kingly throne to come
to a lowly stable in a corrupt world and live out a plan including death on a
cross so that we could be restored to our originally created purpose. While
my mind cannot conceive, my heart believes.
This baby I am holding is amazingly my Savior, my God. Not only will I
touch the hem of His garment, I will gather the swaddling clothes near my
heart. I will hold Him, cling to Him, and
rest my hope and my future in this tiny baby.
This amazing story, this little baby, has captured my heart this
season. “The Word became flesh and dwelt
among us, and we (I, personally,) beheld His glory…” John 1:14a
