Mete and Measure

Taken the first week of Advent.

During this time of Advent, of soon coming, remember what it was to be Israel groaning for a Redeemer King, open your eyes in the dark so that you can celebrate Light, and long for your Ransom to arrive. Ready yourself for Him and, in this, remember most His purpose in coming. In whole and seamless love, not in judgment, He came. Knowing our darkness, our careless forgetting, and our willful ways-- aware of the cost, the piercing agony of Gethsemane and Golgotha-- He came because of love.

A wrinkled Baby drew in earth's air and broke the night with a squawl. In that instant, He also began to break our bonds. Godhood bound in newborn form, wrapped in rough cloth, new skin, and for the first time, utter fragility. The scrunched eyes of Light Itself squinting in a fire's gleam. Shepherds came, too, still shaky and awed. Some silent with the blaze of heaven in their eyes and its promise fiery in their hearts; some with words tumbling over in shock and wonder. Did they turn toward that Baby, awkward hands dirty and callous-rough, and long to scoop him in their arms like Simeon did? Did they wonder at the humble sight of their mighty King? Fresh from a glory-swollen sky, perhaps they knew best that the coarseness of His birth held something that would split the seams of palaces.

For a moment the baffling grandeur of it all rushes through, and then it's gone. Today, that flash came, and I was equally struck by the impossibility of this love for us and by its reality.
Take heart! He comes!