by Candace Simar

simar@tds.net 

Lord, you came for me. For me! Though I was unloved and alone, lost and afraid, you came to me. How did it feel to lay down your authority and live in the body of a helpless baby? You willingly surrendered the joys of your kingdom, the fellowship of your Father and Holy Spirit. You left the angelic hosts to dwell inside a woman’s body for nine months. You were born in a humble place, poor and insignificant. Your birth a lonely mystery in a desert place.

I would have liked to have played with you in the streets of Nazareth. I would have liked to have heard you speak on the temple steps and eaten the bread and fish multiplied by your hand on the hillside of Capernaum. I’d like to have seen the look of gentle goodness in your eyes and heard the timber of your voice.

But I’m glad I didn’t see you suffer—see you beaten and abused for my sins. That part I’m glad to have missed. You faced rejection and skepticism that only grew throughout your years on earth. You were a living light rejected by your own.

This Christmas I come to you as one of the shepherds. I come with doubting wonder in my heart. I sing with the Holy Angels, glory to God in the highest. I bring you gifts of my brokenness and wounded heart. I have nothing else to give.

Lord Jesus, baby of Bethlehem, Creator of the Universe, sacrificial lamb. Thank you for coming to this dismal place. Thank you for coming to my life and for the redemption you bring. Thank you for your heart and voice that I’ve learned to treasure above all else. Hear me sing with the angels. Glory to you, Jesus. Glory in the highest.

Copyright Candace Simar