Friday, December 24, 2010

Immanuel

It is early. It is Christmas Eve morning. In a rare move, Aaron awoke earlier than me. I found him reading on the couch at 7:30. I was sleepy and felt like going back to bed for a long winter's nap. But the sight of my husband, grinning on this unprecedented morning, kept me up. I headed for the coffee pot.

Somewhere between my coffee and the first putterings about the house, the fire proved to be too much for the man. I returned to this:

He so dearly loves being warm while he sleeps.

The dining room table looks like this.


I stayed up too late working on a scrapbook for Aaron's grandma. We are going to my parents' house tonight and then to Aaron's family tomorrow, meaning any gift we want to give must be done and wrapped by 5 o'clock today. Even though she recently fell through for me, I somehow decided I wanted to be just like Martha and make most of the gifts we are giving this year. Which means that today I will be baking 5 loaves of bread, mixing 5 cinnamon butters, finishing 3 cookie platters, creating 1 calendar, and a partridge in a pear tree.

But this morning, I sit. I brush aside all the Martha ambitions and realize I am that Martha from long ago, the one whom Jesus chastised. "Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one."

The room is quiet and cozy. The Christmas tree sparkles from the corner, and I wonder how much of the mystery I have missed for mayhem instead. All my good intentions might just obscure the miracle of the One who came, the One who first wants not my service but my adoration.

I return to familiar words and beg for the veil to fall. To see anew with Spirit's help. "The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel--which means, God with us."

God with us. The one thing that is needed. It is indeed a miracle of the most grand proportions. The King Most High stepped down to His people, the harassed and helpless, the wounded and weeping, the broken and confused, the self-righteous and pious.

The Shepherd has come. Oh weary world, rejoice.

1 comment:

  1. Wow!!! Sometimes he speaks in a still small voice and sometimes through a faithful servants blog post. Thank you for that entry!! May God Bless you richly this holiday season. If you feel like checking out my blog, baking is my thing, maybe we can work on those cardboard cookies ;) Merry CHRISTmas!

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