This morning I took Kachi and Pascal to the garage to get the car fixed. The waiting area had three chairs, and I sat on the chair by the door. Kachi wanted to sit in the middle, and yet Pascal wanted to sit in the middle. There were a few tense moments until Kachi very cleverly said "Pascal, do you want to be the king?"
Pascal replied with an enthusiastic "yes!"
Kachi, pointing to the chair on the end, declared "This is where the king sits."
Pascal scrambled up, very pleased.
Took him a solid five minutes to notice he'd been bamboozled.
It made me smile to myself though, because Kachi didn't even know he was speaking the truth.
It is where the King sits: with us.
With us. He isn't too good, too grand, too perfect. He sits where we are.
A grubby blue waiting-room chair.
A wooden chair at the kitchen table.
A comfy armchair, right there beside you in your living room.
A manger.
This is where the King sits.
Merry Christmas, friends.
xo.
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