On this cold December morning, my daughter’s singing transported me from a mountain of laundry to a holy place…
O Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining
As my ears attuned themselves to her sweet song my soul whispered:
Can you feel it? Can you sense the coming of the King?
- A King who chose to step down from his position of privilege.
- A King who chose a poor family and made them his own.
- A King who spent his early years as a refugee.
- A King who required no pomp or circumstance.
- A King who met people in the very CENTER of their weariness.
This is the King I look to in December. Not some helpless babe in a manger. No! My King is powerful. He performs the miraculous.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices
My King has this amazing ability to hold us in our weariness, our rage against injustice, grief over lost years, and fear about the future. He designed our emotions; he can help us learn how to read them.
AND
His ability doesn’t stop there.
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn
Not only can my King meet us in the center of our weariness and complicated emotions…
HE CAN REDEEM OUR STORY.
My King can take the dry, dusty, weary parts of our lives and coat them in a fresh blanket of snow.
Snow that holds the promise of new life when kissed by the warmth of spring.
This, my friends, is the King we sing songs about.
Laura