I’ve been thinking a lot about Christmas. And what we do here in America. All the pomp and circumstance, the hustle and bustle, the busyness and the celebration. The expectations we put on ourselves…and others. Our traditions, our normal, our way of doing things.
And for some reason, I just can’t get teeny little baby Jesus out of my mind in the midst of all of this crazy holiday hype.
As I’m rushing around trying to get my Christmas shopping done, these images of his tiny hands and feet and those adoring eyes gazing up at His mama, Mary, pop up out of nowhere. I’ll be baking Christmas cookies, and His simple and quiet little heart comes to my mind, as I think about Him laying there nestled in the hay. So quiet. So little. So unassuming.
God in the form of a little tiny baby. How he came to us. How He loved us. How He breathed that humility and sacrifice so willingly…in the form of a newborn baby scent.
And it makes all the pomp and the circumstance we do here in America, seem so big. Almost overdone. In comparison to a teensy little one so quietly bundled up in His manger.
Sweet baby Jesus, quiet my heart this Christmas. Give me a thankful and grateful spirit. Remind me once again how important your birth was to my regeneration.
And help me teach my children. Help me foster a reverence and an awe for what You did as a tiny little baby at Christmastime. Help me teach them to have giving spirits this season. That our celebration, our happiness, is because of you. Not Santa, not presents, not good food. Our partying is your birthday party.
Help them to see that Christmas can be made special with only a very little. That bigger is not always better.
You were little. You were humble. You were quiet.
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