She looks into the face of the baby. Her son. Her Lord. His Majesty. At this point in history, the human being who best understands God is and what he is doing is a teenage girl in a smelly stable. She can't take her eyes off Him. Somehow Mary knows she is holding God. So this is He. She remembers the wors of the angel. "His kingdom will never end."
He looks like anything but a King. His face is prunish and red. His cry though strong and healthy, is still the cry of a baby. And He is absolutely dependant upon Mary for his well-being.
Majesty in the midst of the mundane. Holiness in the filth of sheep manure and sweat. Divinity entering the world on the floor of a stable, through the womb of a teenager and in the presence of a carpenter.
She touches the face of the infant - GOD.
~God Came Near by Max Locado
No comments:
Post a Comment