little black journal

The tree has been decorated, the gifts have been wrapped, the cookies have been baked, the holiday parties have been had, and yet, I still feel somehow so ‘unprepared’ for Christmas day.  Like I’m missing something amidst all of my checked-off to-do’s.  And as I ponder this, I come to the conclusion that I have spent so much time preparing our home and our gifts and our travel plans, and not enough time preparing my heart for the holiday.  I feel urged to take a break from the shopping and baking to pause and quietly revel in the fact that our all-powerful God sent His Son to earth in the form of a tiny, helpless, precious little baby.  We spent some time with our community group last week talking about Christmas meanings and memories, and J’s comment, “Such a big God, in such a little package” has stuck with me.  It’s unfathomable, really, that a tiny little baby, probably looking very much like the babies I see in restaurants with their faces covered in food, or the ones I see bawling in the grocery stores, grew to be the man that would die on a cross for the sins of this world.  And that’s what I want Christmas to be about – awe, thankfulness, joy, and the perfect peace that comes with knowing I love a God that is humble enough, selfless enough, ‘outrageous’ enough to leave the throne of Heaven to take the form of a diaper-wearing, crying, cooing little infant.  That’s the Christmas miracle.