DECEMBER 25 - Christmas Day
This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger. — LUKE 2:12
On Christmas Day of 1959 the snow fell in light, dry flakes, making our barn and springhouse almost disappear. I leaned on my elbow looking out the window of our farmhouse. Our home was busy with a pleasant bustling and Christmas carols from the kitchen radio drifted my way.
During the late afternoon, I pulled on my jacket and boots, stuffed a few carrots in my pockets, and hiked through the snow to the stable. I felt sorry for the horses. Our farmhouse was warm and light; their barn was dark and cold. I didn’t want the animals to be left out. I opened the barn door and a blast of icy air whistled down the aisle. As I placed a carrot in one of the mangers, something resonated. I stared at the slats of wood nailed together. Jesus was born in a wooden manger just like this!
I knew enough of the Christmas story to understand that being in a stable on a cold evening, surrounded by animals, was somehow appropriate, especially knowing what Mary and Joseph went through and all that baby Jesus had to face. My small heart warmed to know that God chose to enter the world through a barn . . . he felt at home in a stable. The Savior of the world was laid in a wooden manger. The Lord of the universe was that humble.
God sliced through the veil of time and space and slipped from the body of a woman onto the straw of a damp stable. Jesus entered the world in humility. Perhaps this is why Christmas moments that draw us closest to the Savior are usually the simple ones. Look for down-to-earth and uncomplicated ways to celebrate this glorious day. Jesus is born! God is with us! The Light of the World has entered our darkness!
Oh, joy! You came to earth to rescue sinful man — and I am so blessed to have had my eyes opened to the glorious gift of your salvation! Bless you, Lord Jesus!
This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger. — LUKE 2:12
On Christmas Day of 1959 the snow fell in light, dry flakes, making our barn and springhouse almost disappear. I leaned on my elbow looking out the window of our farmhouse. Our home was busy with a pleasant bustling and Christmas carols from the kitchen radio drifted my way.
During the late afternoon, I pulled on my jacket and boots, stuffed a few carrots in my pockets, and hiked through the snow to the stable. I felt sorry for the horses. Our farmhouse was warm and light; their barn was dark and cold. I didn’t want the animals to be left out. I opened the barn door and a blast of icy air whistled down the aisle. As I placed a carrot in one of the mangers, something resonated. I stared at the slats of wood nailed together. Jesus was born in a wooden manger just like this!
I knew enough of the Christmas story to understand that being in a stable on a cold evening, surrounded by animals, was somehow appropriate, especially knowing what Mary and Joseph went through and all that baby Jesus had to face. My small heart warmed to know that God chose to enter the world through a barn . . . he felt at home in a stable. The Savior of the world was laid in a wooden manger. The Lord of the universe was that humble.
God sliced through the veil of time and space and slipped from the body of a woman onto the straw of a damp stable. Jesus entered the world in humility. Perhaps this is why Christmas moments that draw us closest to the Savior are usually the simple ones. Look for down-to-earth and uncomplicated ways to celebrate this glorious day. Jesus is born! God is with us! The Light of the World has entered our darkness!
Oh, joy! You came to earth to rescue sinful man — and I am so blessed to have had my eyes opened to the glorious gift of your salvation! Bless you, Lord Jesus!
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