26/12/2021
I’m still soaking in all the Christmas magic.
The kids are all home (Except the one who’s on his honeymoon…we forgive him 💍).
The house is still lit. You can probably see it from space.
The tree remains majestically decorated, though void of packages under its branches.
The craziness of life has stopped for a brief moment.
My weary heart has been rejoicing for days.
And, in that rejoicing, I think of a babe, wrapped in swaddling clothes by a young mother.
I imagine how she lovingly laid him in a makeshift bed.
I think of her espoused husband standing by, amazed at the events surrounding this miraculous birth.
I think of the shepherds - the first to hear of his arrival and welcome him to the world.
The King of Kings and Lord of Lords came to the earth in the humblest of circumstances.
And brought hope with Him.
Hope of deliverance from a fallen world - a hope that still lives today.
A day when confusion, contention, and chaos reign.
A day when brother turns against brother and father against son.
A day when the future feels bleak for so many.
But the babe in the manger turned Savior of the world still stands with outstretched arms, beckoning for each of us to let Him in.
To trust Him.
To follow Him through the confusion to higher ground.
No matter how long or dark the night, hope will always live because of Him.
A weary world, starting with each of our weary hearts, will always have reason to rejoice.
And that is something to celebrate.