He Chose (The Ultimate Christmas Love Story)

He came in flesh, bone and tendon. Gasping His first breath as tiny hands unfurled and the wetness of birth was wiped from His tender skin. He came vulnerable to set the stage of His life.
He didn't have to. He chose to. God chose to stoop down from on high...to multiply from cells in the secret place, to emerge from labour pains, to cloak Himself in flesh, sit cross-legged among men in the dusty streets, to look eye-to-eye with the vulnerable ones. He chose to love the unlovely, to strengthen the not-so-strong, to heal the castaways... and He chose to live and die, bruised and torn, among the vulnerable...so we could see Him, know Him, choose Him as our own. And His death and resurrection would mark His ultimate choosing of you and me, tearing of the flesh He was born into for the ultimate tearing of the veil that no longer separated us from the Holy of Holies. Inviting us in with full access. Preparing the way to a life beyond the vulnerable. Rolling the carpet into His throneroom where my cloak of common-place is exchanged for His robe of righteousness. My vulnerability is exchanged for His spirit, His heart, His freedom, His fullness of joy, His gift of life everlasting. As I trace my fingers over the bruises and scars of my life, He invites me to also trace His...calloused feet, bruised side, lacerated temple, nail pierced hands. I trace over them all until I find myself lingering and pulled in by the heart of it all. The thrumming of His love found in the warmth of His heart...just for me. I fail and fall. He sees and saves. He meets me in the dust...in flesh and bone...in the darkness of night...in the humanness of birth...in the hay of a rugged barn. He meets me there in the knowing. He fills the empty spaces with more than enough. He heals my wounds with understanding...because He bares them with me. His coming, God incarnate, tethers me to this love story where I've been sought...where I've been bought...at a price. The Christmas babe coos in the night; calling my name; drawing my heart. Beginning this love story where His choosing of flesh is the ultimate choosing of me. His birth in lowly places lifts me to the heights of the heavenly realm. Because He chose.

(see picture at http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523039964420/)

Releasing Simplicity

A simplifying.  A yearly search for less...because deep in the soul less fills with a fullness more so than anything of worldly abundance ever could.

Less of my own wants; a giving away of myself.  A simplifying...focusing on the things that will last beyond the expiry of the eggnog in the fridge. A spilling out of the overflow of what has already been poured into me.  My spirit longs and aches to really get this and live it out.

But try as I might, every year I miss the mark...miss the point.  The whirlwind of the season...the focus on things carnal...not meaning to, but getting sucked into the empty vortex of never enough.  Wanting to make this holiday better than the last.  In a desperate effort to fill the emptiness...the darkness...the longing, I stuff my world with twinkling lights and shiny bright paper and bows containing as much profound meaning as this fast and furious commercial season. When it's all said and done, both my bank account and my spirit are depleted.

I love Christmas...I always have.  At the core of it I have always felt surrounded by a sense of hope and the excitement of celebration.  As a kid it was magical.   But the years can dull the shininess of the childhood filter.  The promises of the season are of finding that peace that is unfamiliar to most of us.  That sense of looking beyond yourself and finding fulfillment in doing so.  And that's the quest I find myself on year after year. Where exactly is that pocket I can rest in and be filled to brimming over with meaning...with comfort and joy...where all is calm and all is bright?  There are glimpses of it here and there but never enough to sustain.

In an effort to simplify, I look for the perfect equation with set perimeters to determine where an infilling might come from...but my Creator's order and His divine instruction is never as complicated as I make it out to be.  That in the searching for a filling up I need look no further than being right here...in His presence.  I need not tirelessly get my hands entangled in hanging more tinsel, kneading more doughy sweets or tying more ribbons on treasures under my tree.  Attempting to surround my world with more will not dull the ache.  Those are the distractions that have held me back in years past.  Even if my intentions were of good-will-toward-men, without resting in His presence I would never find what my soul truly searched for.  Even in the giving of myself, without His filling I am giving from a place of emptiness...and you cannot give what you do not have.  To be known, loved, filled...with fullness of joy.  Because in His presence is where the secrets are revealed, unfolded...unwrapped.  With that childlike filter...ripping and tearing away the paper with sheer excitement to reveal the prize inside.  A prize that will change everything.  A prize with eternal relevance and worth...of hope, peace, joy and love...and it fills me to fullness and the overflow multiplies the gift so I can give it away effortlessly. I'm undone to know the truth He pours out and to be filled with all of it to the fullest.  Who knew that the search for less would fill me with more than I can contain...more than I know what to do with but to give it away.

The Christmas babe came for Love's sake.  He pursues me with this Love...beyond words...beyond my limited understanding.  As I seek His presence this season, I'm pulled deeper into the gifts He's waiting to give...with complete fullness.  

In his presence is fullness of joy.

~Psalm 16:11

(see pictures at http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523039933126/  http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523039933123/)