Christmas

God stepped out of infinity

into the bonds of infancy--

                  to listen ,

                  to yearn,

                  to weep--

Hollow halls without the light of Heaven--

Angels hushed in bewilderment

When God became a man

                  --For 33 long years.

Years to watch humanity

                  grapple with its sin,

                                                                   buckle under pain,

                                                                  struggle with no hope.

Baby child,

                  who sees what we don’t see

                  who knows what we cannot know

                  who smiles in the face of God,

Now

Illumines Heaven with His glory,

Fulfilling in His Story

the climax of all time--

Waiting the grand resolution

when He’ll wipe away all tears

and sweep away each fear.

•D. Borkert '99

The Bridge

Mel asked me if there are “lots of scribbles” in my journal. I had to laugh because there are so many words and lines crossed out—and, lately, even whole pages marked through with a great big X. Sometimes, when I begin writing, I’m not even sure where I’m headed, not sure the right thing to say. So at times, I just start anyway.

Then, when it comes to living, I guess, I often do the same. No one knows—really—where she’s headed when she throws a leg over the edge of the bed in the morning. There’s usually a plan, but plans just don’t always play out the way we think. Sometimes, that’s good, and sometimes it isn’t.

The snow is blowing this afternoon, not in soft big flakes to fill up a thirsty land with a drink, but in cold swirlly gales pushing dry white stuff all through the air.This kind of weather at this time of year always makes me wonder what it was like that night when Jesus was born—when the Creator became the created.

Was it cold, with wind whipping through the tunnels created by flat roofed abodes butted up against the path of a street? This whole incarnation thing happened so long ago. It happened in a culture and century so incredibly removed from ours. Sometimes it’s hard to bridge it.

Yet, when the sparkle of conception happened in the womb of a virgin—there were no scribbles, no cross outs—not even one wrong word. Then, wonderously, God created His own bridge—one to span heaven’s perfection to human blight—from a lowly stable to the warm house I sit in, right here on another wintery day.

Today

Today I would invite you to click on the link: Waiting to Decorate at The Bishop Family.
http://bishopfun.blogspot.com/2012/12/waiting-to-decorate.html

Jesus

After twenty-month-old William left, the Fisher Price Nativity Set lay strewn over the living room floor with Baby Jesus nowhere in sight. 

It reminded me of how Christmas often happens—finals to write, the last essays to grade, packages to send, holiday plans finalized—decorating, baking, programs, and on and on. And how often are lives strung out over the month without Jesus in sight?

Then, I question: Do we want it any other way? Do we really?

Or, do we get self-satisfaction from lack of sleep, adrenaline surges, and plastering “super mom” over our faces? Maybe we don’t really want it to stop.

Because—

If I stop long enough to ponder, just where would those reflections take me?

            To my knees?

            To a place of regret and sadness?

            To a cross?

Our house is all decorated. The tree is draped with ornaments special to us. Garland decks the stairs and cabinet tops. Candy canes line the drive. We sure look good.

But, in all that glitz and sparkle, where is that Baby?

I found the Fisher Price Jesus tipped over and under the coffee table? 

Have I left the real Lord there as well?

Surprise!

I’d missed the shower. So on Sunday, I leaned over the chair in front of me after Tina finished playing the piano. “What’s your new grandbaby going to be?” I whispered near her ear. “We don’t know—it’s a baby.”

“They didn’t find out?” I questioned. Tina shook her head, eyes twinkling. “How fun!” I whispered, leaned back into my seat, and thought: Well, that’s why the nursery’s green and there wasn’t a hint of a gender on the invitation.

And I have to admit: I was amazed.

These days it seems like there are to be no surprises! Seemingly, gone are the days where you had to arrive at the hospital with two names—one for whichever. Our worlds are ones of control, and control means no surprises…we hope.

Some surprises, like a positive pregnancy test, can be joyful—or unsettling. (I’ve experienced both.) Yet, in all our preparation, all our minute planning, there are surprises from the sovereign hand of God that await us. There were very few who were looking for a Savior when God sled into time. And who would have dreamed that He’d arrive as He did and where He did?

Sovereign surprises often come when we least expect them—when we think we’re in control. It’s true that some surprises are painful—far, far from what we desired.

But, many surprises are wonderful. It was such fun in the delivery room to learn what “it” was—this baby we’d waited for—I’d thrown up for—

Is it a girl? Is it a boy?

Does she have my blue eyes or Jay’s deep brown?

Red hair, blonde, or brown?

Does it have hair?

Of course, not.

There are wonderful surprises when God slides into our world. We may not know what they’ll be or when, but we can anticipate them just the same.

It can be fun living in a world painted green, waiting to see what will be.