Christmas. What is it about anyway? It means different things to people. This year mine is not like those I've experienced in the past. It's lonely. It feels cold. I feel vulnerable... fearful... and weighed down with responsibility... sad even. Where is the joy?
I open my Bible. The first Christmas is in there. Somehow reading the story makes me feel less alone. Like there have been many, millions, of people down through the ages who have felt like me. Who have felt kind of lost. Alone. It makes me feel like maybe God is there. Here. With me. Immanuel.
I think of Jesus. Leaving heaven. Leaving the glory and security he had. I don't think I could have done that. I know I couldn't. I don't like to leave places of comfort or safety or security. I don't like to feel vulnerable or scared. But he did. For us. For me.
I'll think on that this Christmas. Try to dwell there. Because I can't quite wrap my heart and mind around all the glitter and lights and Christmasy stuff... the packages and bows. The merry-making and singing. I have an emptiness that needs filling and I need to let God in. Let him fill me. I feel in need of a spiritual Christmas. One where I reflect and find joy and peace in the depth and the breadth of God's love... his plan for the human race. For me. For my broken heart. It certainly needs healing... and strength and courage. I know He can do it. He's done it before. He can do it again.
And in the same region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with great fear. And the angel said to them, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.
(Luke 2:8-11 ESV)