Monday, December 19, 2011

We Call It Christmas

From my journal:

I'm kneeling by my bed. I need refreshing. I need to see Jesus in a special way again tonight. I ask, and I'm drawn back through that old story to the beginning.

The day had arrived. He must go. The songs of angels hush as He steps down from His throne. The Father meets Him. They embrace. 

They've never been apart. Even the thought of separation is painful. With a love that can almost never let go they cling, yet the Father is about to do the impossible. He's about to let His Son, His only Son go. And for what?...For me? I shudder.

In that long embrace, both Father and Son can see down the corridors of time. They see the lowly stable, the ungrateful crowds, the sneering, the mocking. He would receive little welcome from those for whom he had left everything. The trials He must bear are seen- the pain, the rejection. And as if this wasn't enough, there was the lingering thought...They knew well the hatred that Lucifer held against Christ. They knew that he would throw all his furious darts at the Savior. He would do all he could do make Him fall. Would it be to much? The risk of eternal failure and loss was ever present. The thought was horrifying. Nothing could be worth the risk..... or could it?

Were there tears, cries of anguish, sobs of grief in the heavenly mansions? I cannot tell, but my eyes are filled with tears. I choke a sob. 

Through it all, They see the cross. They know He would have the most fearful death. Why? Those who he'd come to rescue would be the ones jeering, mocking, crucifying Him. Right now, the Father doesn't have to let Him go. The Son doesn't have to leave all for the dark and sinful world. They still can say "no".   The price could be, no, it was to great... Except for unimaginable love.

This was the only way to bring their children home, and if one would accept Him, it would be worth it. Still, this good-bye was the hardest the universe had ever witnessed.

Jesus finally breaks away from His Father's arms. He smiles. He's thinking of His children that He will be bringing home. His voice rings throughout heaven, "Lo I come. Sacrifices and offerings Thou wouldest not, but a body thou hast prepared me. Lo I come to do Thy will O my God."

Angels wonder. They can't understand it, yet their hearts are filled with a deeper love and joy for Master who would lay aside all for His children. They await the command to share this joy with the world. They watch...but something is wrong. The people don't recognize Him. They aren't welcoming Him with the love and honor they long to pour out to Jesus. Human hearts are slow. Human eyes are weak. 

But a few hear the heavenly singing. A few see the glory. A few recognize the king.

Where would I be? I shudder again. I cannot tell.

All I know now is that I've had a glimpse of Him. I whisper my thanks.

The words are no longer lifeless, old, repeated words. They are true, alive, yet still not comprehensible to me:  "God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. "

Sunday, December 18, 2011


A dozen posts have been written in my head. Oh for time to get them on paper! But finals are done. Christmas choir program is done (we still have more to do:). Our household has been too busy to do any of our Christmas traditions. Only one thing we have done is the music, and hey, it's one of my favorite parts of the season. We love sharing it, practicing it, listening to it.  The new CD from the Nebbletts plays again and again. We love it! Check it out: I Cannot Tell

There nothing to say for a transition, but I'll move on:) 

I'm reading my Bible. Taking the book of Luke at an extremely slow pace. I write, and I learn, and my heart loves my Savior more. 

"Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God."

Way to make me wish I was poor!  I've always been like 'well, guess this wasn't really written for me'.  In literal life, I've never gone hungry for too long, never been cold for too long, never had nothing...or at least I've thought. The phrase 'poor in spirit'  used in Mathew has never been tangible for me either.

That all changed with this thought:

Poverty or being poor is not necessarily having nothing, but recognizing that everything you have is nothing. 

What are our earthly possessions in comparison to the things God has prepared for us?...And we hold onto them? For what? 

I get a glimpse of why God promises the kingdom of God to those who are poor: they want it. 

If we think ourselves rich and increased with goods, guess what, we don't need for more... all the while He pleads, "'Buy of me.' What I offer is far better than the filthy rags you think are so amazing."

Then it clicks. I realize what He's really calling for. It's a call to His church...and it's a call to me:

"You say, I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing; and knowest not that thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked:
I counsel thee to buy of me gold tried in the fire, that thou mayest be rich; and white raiment, that thou mayest be clothed, and that the shame of thy nakedness do not appear."

Recognize, everything you have is worth nothing. Your righteousness. Your goodness. It's nothing. You are poor. And when you get that, you'll buy. I will give you more than you can imagine: A character molded by my hands, a garment of righteousness that's truly pure. 

But understand.

Vanessa, you won't get this by trying really hard. You must come and buy it from me. 

When we are willing to see ourselves in our true state, the promise is ours. The kingdom of heaven is ours.