You entered this beautiful, broken world as we all did,
Did you wail unsure as your tiny body birthed into the cool air?
Were you fussy and colicky in that hay filled manger or sunny and easy as the day is long?
Did your God-consciousness emerge before you could talk?
Did you walk early and talk early and do everything faster and better than the other kids?
Were you a tiny tot, wise beyond your years?
Did the neighborhood kids all want to play with you because you were always friendly, happy and kind?
Did the school bullies have a healthy fear of, or was it a respect for you?
When did you know you could turn them into frogs but refrained from doing so?
When did you become aware of your painful purpose?
Were you a grade school kid when God gently reminded you of your reason, or did you always remember?
At twelve years old when you couldn’t be found, did you just get so caught up in the discussions in the temple that you didn’t think about your crazed with worry Mother?
As you grew into a young man, when did you begin to think about your looming journey and hang on to the hope that God would change his mind?
That he would find another way besides the torture and sacrifice of your earthly flesh to save mankind?
At what point did your love for man overshadow your human yearning for justice and fairness? Because we all know there was no fairness in your treatment.
As a grown man did you want to wring you hands over our slow to grasp minds? Did you sigh deep over our fickleness and fearful hearts?
In dark moments, did you ever regret your time on this orb, of sorrows, temptation, and pain?
In the end were you tired of trudging the uphill battle and tempted to wipe your hands of this messy, ugly, betraying world?
But to this question I know the answer true:
“… Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.” John 13:1
How can you love us so?
And as my endless list of curious questions for heaven some day–swirls round in my head,
I am blessed and grateful and keenly aware that I am so loved.
I am thankful, thankful, thankful,
That you humbled yourself low, to accept this assignment of pure love when our love was so faulty in return.
“…The time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.” Luke 2:7
And I hum—“Oh Holy night, the stars are brightly shinning. This is the night of our dear Savior’s birth. Long lay the world in sin and error pining, till he appeared and the soul felt it’s worth…”