The story of Jesus coming isn’t a pretty ‘Christian’ story.
It’s not prim, proper or ideal when we think about kings and what they deserve. Not the manger nor the virgin. Not the myrrh.
It’s not some story meant for Christians alone, for the ones who know the story by heart. It’s not merely for the ones used to bending their knees and bowing their heads.
This is a story for anyone, any desperate heart, who had ever needed a savior.
It’s for you, who have been looking for someone to swoop in and convince you that you are not alone.
Because even in the most unlikely circumstances – a virgin, some sheep, no shelter, no crib – the miracle arrives.
God came real and raw into this world just to envelop broken people and grant them redemption, dignity and a place in the spaces where sin rotted out the middle. He didn’t come with any ranking or clout.
A baby was born in the dark of the night and so came God’s most beautiful characteristic yet: His will and ache to save us.
To take heavy loads off our shoulders. To deliver us.
To give us a kingdom in a poverty stricken existence.
To say unto us, with his birth into flesh,
“Hey, you messed up yesterday. And yes, you’ll mess it up tomorrow. But I absolutely love you with every ounce of my capacity; and nothing you ever do, bad or good, could change that.
So I sent something to you, a gift – to take away your blame, your guilt, your shame and your suffering.
So would you take it?
Would you take the gift from me?”
