I love that Jesus came to us as a baby. I feel like it shows us the dearest, sweetest, funniest side of God's heart - he came to us as a squishy, helpless, precious, hilarious, stinky, wonder-filled, sleepy darling.
With the arrival of each of our precious lambs, I was struck by the enormity of work involved in keeping a tiny human alive; hearts and schedules and bodies bending around the basic needs and unarticulated demands of an utterly incapable, indescribably sweet baby. What does it show about his longing for us, that God would risk placing himself at our fallible mercy?
I remember one day when I was out walking with Sam in his stroller, and a stranger at a stoplight told me a racist joke. I was flooded with fury that those sounds, those intentions, were being shared in the same space as my tiny darling. "What makes you think we want your racism in our ears?" I demanded, then turned and walked away. I had never before experienced my hackles rising like my mama-bear-hackles rose that day.
I cannot even imagine the feelings that Mary must have felt when she knew that Herod was hunting and killing babies, trying to get to her son. The sorrow, and fear, and rage?
We, palely, bear the fingerprints of the Defender of the Weak. His Good-Shepherd hands shaped us, and we storm against injustice and cruelty because that is his character as well.
The blacked-out Epstein files are a slap in the face to every child who has ever had their innocence stolen and autonomy violated. They make a mockery of peace and justice.
Do you know, when he grew up, what Bethlehem's adored baby, what Mary's wise son, what the merciful Christ had to say about people who harm children?
"It would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea." (Matthew 18:6, Mark 9:32, Luke 17:2)
For any child who was not protected, who was violated or abused
All I want for Christmas is a millstone.
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