I have a little boy who has glittery eyes and a quick smile.
When I carry him in my arms I kiss his soft face over and over, and I love the pudgy feel of his legs as they surround me. His giggle is infectious—I record it and could listen to it all day.
He lies on his back, covers himself with a pillow, and plays peekaboo from underneath, grinning and squealing. He comes to my arms to give a great hug and lay his head on my shoulder. I’m in heaven.
Being a mom’s not easy, but with him, it’s full of great delight.
This time of year, when I look at him, I think of Jesus.
Jesus as a little boy, delighting in each new discovery, giggling and making everyone’s day a little brighter. The Jesus that’s missing from the Gospel stories—the normal little kid who started small but grew in wisdom and stature. The one who maybe chipped his tooth like my little one as he explored the world, the world he created, and yet was delighted to be a part of.
And that’s the wonder that celebrating Christmas is. God became a human.
God didn’t become an adult, but God became a baby. That’s always amazing to me, and even more so as I realize that a baby is completely dependent—even when they’re past that “baby” stage.
God chose to be dependent on human parents. God chose to be a baby.
May I always be amazed at this mystery!
I’ve been struck this year by the phrases in “Hark the Herald Angels Sing:”
“Veiled in flesh the godhead see, hail the incarnate deity”
The first part—I’m amazed that the godhead was veiled in flesh, and in being so veiled became visible to me.
“Pleased as man with us to dwell, Jesus our Emmanuel”
Becoming a baby, being dependent on human parents pleased God. That’s an unfathomable mystery.
If the godhead was pleased, Jesus probably giggled, hugged, and delighted, just like my little boy.
That really makes me happy.