Christmas Eve
Scripture: Matthew 1:18-25
A young girl and her fiancée, on an ordinary trip to Bethlehem. When suddenly it was time, and the waves of pain got closer and closer together until the night became anything but ordinary to them. And the night that had been so quiet no longer was. And her cries pierced the air of the town full of lonely hearts and longing souls, people waiting for healing and for rescue and for a king. She lay on the cold hard ground, without a mother to sing comfort over her, holding the hand of a man she barely knew. The hand of a man whose obedience she could trust. A man who looked an awful lot like his unborn son, full of grace and mercy and hope. And he held her hand and timed her breaths, the mess and the beauty of labor filling his hands and bed like a symbol of his own heart. In a cycle of hope and of pain, earth stood still and waited for Love to be born.
This night, Love was born.
Love that swims into every crevice of your heart. Love that chose a teenage girl and a kind boy...and kings and whores and slaves and murderers and priests and weirdos. Love that blew air into your lungs. Love that knows your depths and still chooses you. Love that lays you bare on the cold hard ground and calls you by your name.
This night, my son. This night, my daughter.
I was coming for you. I will always come for you.
Prayer:
The night feels so familiar, almost as if I was there. I remember this King. I can feel the silence and the chill and the waiting. And some days it feels like I have been waiting forever. Help me believe in what happened on this night over 2,000 years ago. Help me believe in the Love that came. The Love that makes all things new, even me. The Love that changes everything, even me. Might I leave this season, broken and bare, mended by the Love that calls my name. Amen.