a messy first Christmas
One of my favorite things right now is dwelling in the messiness of the first Christmas.
One of my favorite things right now is dwelling in the messiness of the first Christmas.
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I want it known I had a plan.
And this — this was not the plan.
The plan was small and simple and concrete:
a good life, a righteous life, a quiet life.
Now the plan is seven pounds of impossible weight
and screaming.
Rejoice! rejoice! Take heart and do not fear; God’s chosen one, Emmanuel, draws near.
All the Whos down in Whoville loved the Magnificat, but the Grinch, still learning his lesson, did NOT.
“Here am I, the servant of the Lord.” She did not nod, but the whole of the universe nodded with her. “Let it happen to me as you have said.”
At the heart of the Christmas story is a story of God’s total embodiment into suffering. God was not born into grandeur and palaces, but to an unwed mother sleeping in a stable and fleeing a murderous king. Christmas, at its core, is a holiday for the suffering.