No wonder so many people believe that Christ's birth was a fairytale. I mean sure you have those that believe in science and have done "research" and will argue that there is no savior...no heaven or more than one way to get there if such a place exists.
I get it. I do. We want to feel OK in our lives, we MUST understand every aspect of our lives and it sure is a lot easier to just not even think about it.
I should say I did get it. Until I got it.
Jesus didn't come walking in to my life on a rainbow with flowers in His hand and we walked off into oblivion together smiling and skipping.
The truth is He jumped into the water with me where I was drowning...offered His hand and WAITED on me to take it...constantly offering His hand. There was no rainbow and I didn't emerge out of the dark water like you see in the movies glorious and all. It was ugly. Anyone who knows anything about healing knows that the healing is NOT GLORIOUS.
To be FULLY healed IS glorious and I look forward to that day when I am no longer broken.
Heaven.
Jesus was born in a cave, A NASTY dung filled goat cave (some believe it was a stable) Either way..it was filled with animals and filth. The lowest place possible.
I know you've heard it. The highest born the lowest..yada yada. It means nothing to you until it means something.
So let's take the story of Christ's birth and make it real today. If Christ were to be born today...He would be born in the middle of Ferguson, or maybe with the starving in Africa...or how about in a crack house. It would be UGLY.
Jesus pursues the ugliness. The dark. The Widow. The Orphan.
The least. The forgotten. The addicted.
Having a relationship with Christ is about clinging onto the never changing Love of Christ. It's knowing that He pursues us in our darkness. He did not come to condemn but to be condemned.
Some days it is as simple as putting one foot in front of the other. Totally dependant on the fact that He has already taken the step and is there behind me, beside me and waiting on me all at the same time.
Last week I had condemned myself as the worst parent. I lost my cool and said some hurtful things out of anger. I felt far from God. FAR FROM GOD. I mean aren't Godly parents supposed to have low voices and sing praises to their children every 22 seconds? Teenagers will suck the wind out of your lungs. How in the world are you supposed to even breathe? Much less sing. It doesn't seem like a big deal...you know losing your cool until you look at the fact that my child is now almost 18. Which in my mind means I'm still making mistakes. I still feel defeated. That's where Jesus comes. In the desperation and in the defeat.
I think about Mary at the feet of the Son of God and her son at the same time. I think about how it must have been easier to say "yes" when she was staring at an angel. But it had been 33 years since she had seen the angel...it wasn't a fresh memory. How horrible to witness your child being ripped apart.
I can sum it up in a few words but the one I choose today will be HOPE.
Christmas is about HOPE. Mary would one day see her child again. One day we will be made perfect by the perfect parent.
Being a believer in Christ is not always ugly, there are beautiful joyous moments. Mostly when we are following in the ways of our Lord and Savior. When we love the unlovable and do for the ones who can't do for themselves.
That is Christmas to me. Hope in desperation.
Make us desperate, Lord.
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