I love Christmas. I love the music, the lights, Christmas trees. But I’ve been careful not to miss what Christmas really is. I’ve been thinking of the humble beginnings of Jesus on that silent night. I never cease to be amazed that God would introduce His son to our world in such a humbling, downright inglorious setting.
You see, there was no room in the hotel for them. So it was off to the barn for Joseph, his wife, and their soon-to-arrive son. God could have chosen so many more fitting ways to usher the Savior into the world He created. A palace would seem appropriate. But He chose a stable. Then, the indignity carried out even further. You see, there was no cushy bed in which to put the newborn Messiah. So they improvised.
A manger is basically a trough in which animals would shove their dirty snouts in order to get a mouthful of sustenance. But on this night, it would be a cradle. Instead of holding the food for farm animals, this time it held the Bread of Life for all mankind.
And now Jesus abides in an equally humble place. A place which is every bit as flawed and inconsistent with a place you would imagine for the King of Kings. A place which is just as unfitting for royalty as can possibly be.
Had Jesus been born as He deserved, how could He find my heart a suitable home? My heart is anything but a glamorous mansion befitting a King. Instead, my heart is a humble and unassuming place. But as Jesus made that stable and manger the center of His will and glory some two thousand years ago, He is working to do the same in my heart and life. By merely living in it, He raises its value and its potential.
Everything Jesus has ever touched, He changed from being ordinary. That is why His life started out in such a humble, unglamorous setting.
And maybe…just maybe, He’ll touch my life, and yours, and make it fit for a King.
Merry Christmas, from my heart to yours.