A Glimpse of Starlight

Dear Jesus,

Usually it’s relatively easy for me to think of You—I have this picture of You in my mind as  a thirty-year-old man, Jewish, preaching to crowds and handing out bread and walking through streets with love and sorrow mingled in Your eyes.  But at this time of year, it’s a little harder to wrap my brain around the idea of You.

Somehow it’s easier to think of You being both God and man when I picture You as an adult.  But as a baby?  God as a baby?  I have little sisters, I know quite well what babies are like, and I simply can’t reconcile what I know about babies with what I know about God.  The all-powerful Lord of host—nursing?  The King enthroned in light, who spoke the galaxies into existence—fat-cheeked and fuzzy-headed?  Diapers on the Alpha and Omega, a shrieking wail from the Morning Star?  I just don’t get it.

Maybe that’s a good thing, though.  Maybe I need to be reminded of the wonder, the mystery, reminded of how very small and confused I am.  I like to think I know it all, that I’ve got it figured out, but this God-as-a-baby thing shows me how untrue that is.  It helps me kneel before You in awe—awe that You understand how all this works and I can’t, awe that You did this willingly for me.

So as I near this day that we’ve designated to celebrate Your birth, Jesus, remind me of this awe, and bring back the wonder.

Help me be humble like You, forgetting what I think I deserve, demanding nothing, and simply serving.

Help me be submissive like Mary, willing to sacrifice my plans for Yours even when no one else will understand.

Help me be pure like Joseph, unwilling to let any hint of immorality spoil my testimony, even at the cost of my dreams and desires.

Help me be open like the shepherds, believing the unbelievable without a care as to what others might think.

Help me be expectant like Simeon, never giving up my trust in Your promises, even as the years stretch long.

Help me be faithful like Anna, dedicated to You, praying even when it’s hard and I’m tired and it seems like a waste.

Help me be generous like the wise men, giving my best, knowing that it doesn’t come close to what You deserve.

Help me love You.

Happy birthday.

Love,

Your daughter