Into the Fire

In white glory or palm tree sunshine, it comes. Bearing the gift of Jesus Christ.

The mysteries of winter in blizzards and freezing rain or sunshine on ocean beaches tanning bodies doused in sun-blocks.

In poverty and need, in riches and no need, in sorrow and loss, in success and gain, Christmas comes.

He comes. In hearts who open up with sobs and wet eyes draining unstoppable tears.

He comes to hearts who sit silent amidst a cache of opened gifts wondering why there is no jubilation.

He comes to hearts trapped on highways with flat tires, no chains, an overheated radiator, offering prayers they never thought they’d utter. He comes.

Mary wanted nothing more than to serve the God she knew. In supernatural saturation the Messiah of prophecy grew in her virgin womb. Joseph heard the voice of God through angelic instruction and not only took the young pregnant woman as his bride but chauffeured her to Bethlehem in obedience to both his God and his ruler. Listening faithfully to that Voice, he hastened his family to Egypt in the middle of the night because God told him to do this.

And you? Have you heard His voice? Soft but clear . . . or firm and louder? He still speaks to us. Are we listening?

God Almighty, we celebrate Jesus. King of Kings, Lord of Lords. Rejoice in the Lord always . . . Again I say, “Rejoice!”