Saturday, December 15, 2012

Bethlehem is in Newtown Connecticut


Yesterdays horror still has me shaky. It has really rocked our whole family and so many of you as well, I know. And I don't even watch the news. I do read it, but am being selective even there. All those little ones. Parents, with Christmas around the corner and empty arms and hearts. I can't stop myself thinking how they will get through it- how possibly can you get through it?

And then I remember that this is the real meaning of Christmas. This is why He came. It isn't about the boxes and presents- its about so much more. Jesus who is love, and desires all men to be saved, saw our desperate human state. And we really are desperate, aren't we?Yesterday proves we have lost our way entirely. And so He came. To save us from ourselves. To save us from each other.To save us from ambushes, and war, and innocent killings, and even the guilty ones. And Jesus doesn't do things in half measure. Historians tell us the three wise men likely didn't arrive in adoration for a few years after he was born and thus he was hunted by Herod as a small child like those little ones yesterday. If this is true then surely He was a comfort to them  as they passed into His arms. 

 2000 years ago we had no room for Him in an Inn. Today we exile from public places and classrooms. But it is not possible to shake Him from humanity as He became one of us. There will always be a Bethlehem and a  dirty stable to welcome his warm body to the cold night air, so long as even one of us have a little faith left in our hearts. Yes, just a mustard's seeds worth. He will show up, because He loves us. And He understands our desperation.

This year He will have to make His Bethlehem in Newtown Connecticut, since he always hears the cries of his children. Amidst the tragedy He will appear, humbly, quietly, and dressed in poor rags. He will show up in the million stories we will hear of heroism, and unselfish love. Stories of teachers shielding children and hiding them in closets. Stories of policemen and women who will stand guard and protect. Stories of neighbors who will reach out to comfort. Stories of a nation that will flood this small town with love and prayers. He will pour himself into every crack and crevice of the bleeding, broken hearts in parents, and family, and friends in that quiet little town, and He will begin to heal them. But it will take time. He will be with them in a million small ways- and they will need Him to be.

Vicki Soto died a hero yesterday protect her class
Anne Marie Murphy special Ed teacher, used her body as a shield to save her students.
 It may not feel like it tonight. It may seem sheer foolishness on my part to think it, but that is what faith is about. Believing. Believing we are not forsaken. Believing things can be better than this. Believing for all these broken parents that this is not the last time they will see their little ones.There is something more.

This is the meaning of Christmas. That hope has not died, despite humanity's penchant for trying to kill it. It rises again in all those who believe in Him, and will make room for Him in their hearts. 

Come Lord Jesus!

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