The World Upended
The ethereal hails
the dust of earth
The One who lit the
stars shivers in darkness beneath them
A dirty peasant
girl’s bastard child is
God with us.
~S.B.S. (December, 2016)
My friends, the beauty of Christmas isn't family togetherness, twinkling lights, or the story of a cute baby among barnyard animals.
The beauty of
Christmas is that the most powerful being in the universe shocked the hell out of
heaven and hell, not by a show of might but by becoming the most vulnerable of
humans: the baby of an impoverished, teenaged refugee.
Why? It was a
crucial step in the ultimate, ongoing, undeserved rescue plan for you and me,
who--even in our moments of best intentions--make an ugly mess of everything we
touch: every opportunity, every relationship, every governing system, every
inch of this planet.
When will the final rescue occur? How will it happen? I
don't know, but I suspect it will be an even more audacious, amazing, beautiful
show of love.
