Its Monday, the day after Christmas Day, and I'm reflecting on the final Christmas song I heard last night, "Welcome To Our World" by Michael W. Smith. A fitting end to the Christmas weekend.
Thinking back over the Christmas season this year, I realize how exhausting and stressful this one felt. The rush to parties the last few weeks, the crush of shopping, the final days in the office, the cooking, the cleaning, the traveling, and to top it all off, Kelsey was horribly sick all this past week. She was miserable, and consequently, none of us got much sleep for close to seven days. She finally began to improve late Christmas Eve, but has been weak since.
We drove to Peachtree City to see Lisa's side of the family Christmas Day, with heavy rain pelting us all the way down. We spent a fun, laughter-filled day with the Brown family, then drove back through the rain and collapsed in fitful sleep until almost noon today. Well, Lisa and the girls did. I woke up about 10am, and enjoyed the solitude, the quiet, the sun-soaked morning with a cup of coffee and nothing on the calendar. Much-needed, for all of us.
Its been a day of rest, reflection, and returning the house to normal. And I wondered, what's left of Christmas? After the presents, the wrapping paper, the decorations and lights; after the platefuls of food and spiced cider; after the laughter of friends and family, the delight of children; after the sounds, the smells, the sights of the holidays; after the greetings and goodbyes of "Merry Christmas"-
What's left of Christmas?
Jesus.
"Welcome To Our World"- It was not the end, but only the beginning. The world He had made, that rebelled against Him; the world He quietly entered Himself in human form; the world He came to rescue, redeem and restore; we who truly know Him say, "Welcome"- in your world, and in our hearts. He is here.
"But in your hearts set apart Jesus Christ as Lord..." 1 Peter 3:15a

This past Sunday I taught "A Shepherd's Tale", a view of the Nativity through the eyes of sheep herders. I'm still amazed every year when I look into the Christmas story, at how God orchestrated it all. Take the shepherds for instance-
In studying them, you find that they were largely uneducated, transient, cheap labor. They possessed no skills such as masonry, carpentry, etc. Some were not even Jewish, but immigrants or foreigners. It was low-paying, hard work, often with long hours and far from home. They usually worked for a rancher who actually owned the flocks. Sheep herding was dirty work, feeding, cleaning, shearing, grooming, protecting, giving medical attention, and even helping birth sheep in the flock. Some sheep flocks were tended for the sacrificial rituals in the Temple in Jerusalem.
Yet for all their hard work, they were paid low wages, had a very low status in society, were generally not welcome in larger towns and cities, and sadly, not allowed to attend worship in the Temple. Tragic, that the very ones who kept the sheep flocks for sacrifices, were not allowed to participate themselves. Such was their status in ancient Middle Eastern society.
But God does not see as man sees, and God did not view them as worthless. Of all the people in the world who could have been the first to get the news of the Messiah, God chose to send word to a group of dirty, stinky, outcast sheep herders, working the night shift on a hill outside Bethlehem. And He did it in grand fashion- a brilliant, majestic angel, joined by an army of the Heavenly hosts, putting on a concert in the sky like never seen before or since. All for a handful of sheep herders. Herod and the politicians didn't get the word, the high priest and religious leaders didn't, the rich and powerful never got the message. I love it.
I'm reminded of all the times I've heard people say things like, "I hate my life" or "nobody cares" or "God doesn't love or know me". To those I say- if anyone had a human right to think like that, it would be those shepherds. But God proved otherwise. The Shepherd's Tale teaches that no matter what anyone thinks of you, no matter how you are treated, no matter what you think of yourself- you are loved, cared for, known, and hoped for. He came for you as well. Just ask the shepherds. They know.
"I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people..." Luke 2:10

I found this section in Max Lucado's great book, "In the Grip of Grace", and had to share it-
“Can anything make me stop loving you?” God asks. “Watch me speak your language, sleep on your earth, and feel your hurts. Behold the maker of sight and sound as he sneezes, coughs, and blows his nose. You wonder if I understand how you feel? Look into the dancing eyes of the kid in Nazareth; that’s God walking to school. Ponder the toddler at Mary’s table; that’s God spilling his milk.
“You wonder how long my love will last? Find your answer on a splintered cross, on a craggy hill. That’s me you see up there, your maker, your God, nail-stabbed and bleeding. Covered in spit and sin-soaked.
“That’s your sin I’m feeling. That’s your death I’m dying. That’s your resurrection I’m living. That’s how much I love you.”
Wow. I'm stunned into worshipful silence.
I was thinking today about the tremendous, life-changing experience the birth of Christ was to His earthly dad, Joseph. Here he is, a simple construction worker in Nazareth, getting ready for his upcoming marriage to his bride-to-be, Mary. Nothing extraordinary about him- just a regular, working class guy. Then he finds out his fiancé is pregnant, obviously NOT by him! I can’t imagine the horror, shock, anger, fear, and sorrow he must have felt. But being a good guy, he was just planning to break everything off quietly, try to pick up the pieces and get on with his life- until the night an angel came to him, with some incredible news…
I found that, in the book of Matthew, an angel spoke to Joseph a total of 4 times, from the first revelation that Mary was carrying the Messiah, to the final word that it was safe to go back home from Egypt. No matter what his circumstances looked like, no matter what anyone might have thought, no matter how crazy it all seemed- Joseph trusted and followed God, and reaped the benefits of helping raise up God in human flesh.
Imagine- those rough, calloused hands cradling Divinity; those worn-down fingernails tickling holy infant toes and nose; those thick arms playfully wrestling with the toddler God; stopping the cart, because his 10-year old son, who also happens to be the Lord of all the universe, wants to ride to the supply store with him. It must have been amazing almost every day to think that, “this cute little kid running around my house is the Lord God Almighty in human skin. And I’m teaching Him to fish and play ball and swing a hammer without smashing His fingers.”
We don’t hear anymore about Joseph after Jesus turned 12. All we know about him we find in the first few chapters of Matthew and Luke. But I know one thing- he was a man blessed by God, no doubt. And I look forward to meeting him someday, and hearing his stories about being “dad” to the Son of God. I’m sure he has some incredible stories to tell…
The Word became flesh, and made His dwelling among us. John 1:14