And today is a dreary rainy day. Call me melancholy, but there’s something about these types of days that are good for my soul. I love hearing the rain pound into the hard ground, feeling the cool mist on my skin and looking at the stark nakedness of the trees. I don’t quite know what it is about those trees, but I am fascinated by the way the branches twist and bend and spread out into tiny twigs that sharpen against the background of a light grey sky. It’s beauty, raw and harsh, glorious in its barest and most vulnerable presentation.
And in the midst of my tree ponderings, my mind is interrupted by a scene involving two young people and a baby in a stable. The roughness of the straw, the dank smell of animals and blood, the cries of a woman in labor. How raw and harsh was the reality of this baby’s birth. How vulnerable and bare they must have felt! And yet, and yet how glorious, how loud the whisper of his coming, how overwhelming beautiful was his arrival. That the God of sunsets and stars, trees and mountains, the God of joys and sorrows and kings and presidents and everything, this, yes this Almighty being has come to earth in His most vulnerable and tangible form to save us.
to SAVE us.
to save US.
Oh how glorious! Emmanuel! God is with us again. And there were shepherds watching their flock by night and behold an angel of the LORD came upon them, and the glory of Yahweh shone about them, and they were afraid. And the angel said, “Fear not, for I bring you good tidings of great joy that shall be for ALL people. For unto you is born this day a Savior, your Messiah, and He is Christ the Lord.
Gloria, gloria in excelsis deo!
It’s no wonder Mary pondered all these things, treasuring and storing them away in her heart. Who can understand, who can fully appreciate the glory and mystery of Jesus Christ, who came as a baby to save us from our sins.
May we not be too busy this season. May we sit and ponder these mysteries and treasure them, holding them ever close to our hearts.