Last Christmas, I snuggled my newborn baby girl, a great joy after a great loss, and Christmas truly felt magical. In the glow of the tree lights, in the laughter of family and friends, in the warmth of the little life snug against my shoulder, I felt both great joy and a deep connection to The Great Joy we were all celebrating.
For unto us a child is born.
This Christmas, my baby is a toddler. I'm busy chasing her away from the Christmas tree ornaments, and her snuggly moments are of a less peaceful sort, usually occurring when her full-speed exploring has resulted in a head injury of some sort or, on several occasions recently, after she's spewed vomit all over me. Many of my good friends are dealing with tragedy and crisis, and I feel the weight of all of it pressing in upon me, crowding out joy, clouding my view of The Great Joy.
But still. Unto us a child is born.
There is magic in the birth of a child, in life bursting into life. There is wonder and excitement and a profound sense of awe. The world is full of promise and hope. We celebrate this at Christmas, the magic even bigger and deeper in the story of Heaven's son than it was with the births of our own sweet babies.
I think of Joseph and Mary on that crazy, wonderful night, of how they must have seen God's hand all over everything: His provision of a stable for them to birth their baby, His orchestration of angels and shepherds, of prophecies made and prophecies fulfilled.
But I think too of the long, difficult days and years that followed for Jesus' parents: of a midnight flight to an unfamiliar land, of trying to raise a God-child they could never fully understand, of the Son they had nurtured speaking words about leaving family behind for the sake of the kingdom. I suppose raising a child is never easy, even if He is a holy One.
But this is part of Christmas too, the reality of this weary world in which we live. There would be no Christmas magic if it were not also true that we dwell in a land of deep darkness, that we are all in desperate need of a great Light.
For unto us a child is born.
Unto us. All of us. Those of us whose hearts are full with sparkling tree lights and precious little ones to cuddle. Those of us who are weary and empty, straggling toward Christmas half-asleep. And those of us with broken hearts and empty arms, for whom life has lost all sparkle.
He came for us all, calls to us all: to the most jubilant and the most bitter, to the most energetic and the most burdened among us.
For unto us a child is born.
Let earth receive her King.