The Coming

As we sat in the darkness of our living room, with little lights twinkling from the tree, the glow of the snow and white lights through our picture window, the silhouettes of our stockings against the fireplace, our Jesse Wreath hung on the chimney and the reflection of flames from our fireplace dancing on the hardwood floor, I was struck once again by the magic of the season. This past month we have been preparing our hearts, our goodie stashes and sweet gifts for loved ones and the time of celebration is so near. But this year, more than any other, we prepared to celebrate His coming.

In our home, you won't find rumors of a jolly old man in a red suit (not that we are opposed to jolly old men) but we long to impact to our girls the magic of the season rooted in the reality of His coming. But don't worry about their imaginations, because truly, can you just imagine?

The racing heart of a very young girl as she prepared for her baby's coming in a stale, crowded stable. Rather than family and loved ones around, only her beloved and a cow or donkey or two? The pains of childbirth and the peace that set in afterward as she held her little one and thought, "My son, my Savior." Still, quiet, pondering.

In contrast, not too far away in a field, a heavenly host of angels (and not the chubby Hallmark kind) appeared to scruffy, lowly shepherds while they tended their sheep. The awesome warriors of light filling the sky, striking fear in the hearts of the shepherds, bringing great news that in Bethlehem, the one who would be their King, their Savior was born. Singing, rejoicing, praising, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!”

And the star, the great star that lit up the sky that in time would lead three wise men to worship their Savior.

Now those things are the things that fairy-tales are made of...only this wasn't a fairy-tale. It is the greatest reality of all eternity.

Just as God led Joseph and Mary to a back road stable, the shepherd's to the manger where the King was laid, and the wise men to a rather insignificant town all to reveal what He was doing, so they could "rejoice exceedingly with great joy....and [fall] to the ground and worship Him," just as he led them, He has been leading our hearts, preparing them for the work that He is doing and reminding us of the finished work on the cross that He has done.

While the story of our Savior's birth is magical, mysterious and worthy of our celebration and awe, we cannot separate His coming from His purpose in coming: redeeming His people on the cross. So this Christmas, and every Christmas hereafter, may we not separate the cradle of a baby, from the cross on which the King of Glory died.

Our stockings are hung by the chimney with care, but with hope, joy and peace for Jesus is here.

Merry Christmas!