It’s been a long time since I sat down just to write, just to process what’s on my mind and my heart. But as I sat down with a bright green pen and stack of paper to edit, I couldn’t ignore the itch to hash out a few new, fresh, unedited words. So, that’s what I’m here to do.
Advent has always been one of my favorite times. I think it’s the stark contrast of a room dimly lit by treelight with the rush of the racing world. It stirs my heart to long for home even more than usual. My home is a haven from a world that wears me out, and I love it in any season, but this one is my favorite. Never does stillness seem so countercultural. Never does it seem so right.
I think it’s also that tiny Infant in a humble stable. How could we deny His worth? How could we doubt that kind of God? One who would wrap Himself in all our frailty to wrap us right up in His strength. It ought to bring us to our knees beside that manger. It ought to give us pause. It ought to make us wonder. It ought to slow us down. Oh, Lord, let it!
I’ve been praying this week that all my lack and longings would stir in me a longing for a Lord who came so close, who still draws so near. I’ve been asking that every want would press me closer to His heart, that every desire would push me further into His presence.
His power is tempered by His gentleness, and we need both, and Christmas reminds me of it.
The cross and the manger. Trampled death and tended hearts. Sovereign and so very kind.
No want is wasted when Jesus Christ is where we land.
I feel like I can find Him here in this quiet light, in these shorter days, in these sacred moments. Because I feel so very found. I feel like I can know Him. Because I feel so very known. I can’t always picture the Man of Christ in my mind. But the Baby Jesus? I can sense Him more than see Him, can nearly feel the weight of the Newborn Christ against my chest. And I know I am so very tightly held by the Man that He became, by the God He’s always been.
May this advent give us pause. May the treelight slow us down. May the garland-graced mantle lead us to the grace-filled manger. And may that Tiny Child wrapped in swaddling clothes wrap us right up in His perfect love.
