Thursday, December 24, 2015

A Love that is Wide and Long and High and Deep


The baby arrived in the early morning hours of Christmas Eve day.

The parents had prepared a room for her complete with soft blankets and lullaby music. They were so ready to hold her.

She appeared at 3:20am.

And they waited to hear her cry.

They held their breath and whispered a prayer when the room was void of the precious, first cry.

“Why isn’t she crying?”

“Why isn’t she crying?”

It was then that her mom and dad heard her make tiny sounds, sounds as if she were trying to speak.

But there was no cry.

The nurse wrapped her in a warm blanket and allowed her mother to touch her tiny hand before whisking her out of the room.

Her dad followed the nurse.

Her mother cried.

It was explained to her parents that this tiny baby was not ready to be born yet. She couldn’t cry because her lungs had not fully developed.

The arms that ached to hold her would be empty.

And the room that was prepared for her would have to wait.

Later that evening, the baby’s mother sat quietly in a lonely, darkened hospital room. She had all the physical comforts she needed- shelter from the cold winter wind outside her window, food if she was hungry, and a pillow to cry into.

She had just walked back from a visit to the NICU. She had looked through the glass that separated her from her infant. She saw the IV and tubes and monitors connected to her innocent baby as she lay tucked in an incubator.

How she longed to hold her. But more than that, she longed for someone to tell her everything would be okay.

The birth of her Savior took on a deeper meaning that night.

She had read the story countless times.

Mary and Joseph traveled to Bethlehem and found no safe, comfortable place to sleep.

Throngs of people everywhere and yet the baby Jesus arrived without fanfare.

You say the angels were there? No, scripture tells us the angels announced the birth to the shepherds and then went back to heaven.

We often picture angels singing the Hallelujah Chorus over the cave where Jesus was born. Luke 2 truly paints a very different picture of a dark hollowed out grotto with maybe the light of a fire that Joseph might have prepared to warm them.

The shepherds hurried to see this spectacle that had been announced. They must have told Joseph and Mary about the grand baby declaration; why else would they have been allowed to look in on the newborn Jesus.

The manger was not a soft bed. It was a trough hewn out of rock. The only warmth was from the cloths Mary had carefully wrapped him in and perhaps some straw in the trough that was meant to feed the animals.

After the shepherds left we read that Mary treasured and pondered these “things” in her heart.

Did she hold Jesus close and vow to never let anyone hurt Him?

Did tears slip from her eyes and gently fall on tiny hands as she pressed her lips to his forehead?

Was she overwhelmed with love and the weight of responsibility as she gazed at his face and gently traced his lips and chin?

Did she smile with pride as she counted his fingers and toes?

Did her heart skip a beat as she remembered this is the child who came to save the world?

 But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.

The shepherds returned to their post, glorifying God and praising Him for all the things they had seen and heard.

And the world would never be the same.



The worry slipped away from her as the young Mom considered the birth of Christ.

If God could create the world and everything in it

If God knew all there was to know

If God provided a way for forgiveness and eternity in Heaven

If God’s love was wide, long, high and deep

And if God sent His very Son to sacrifice His life…

This same God could take care of her tiny infant that struggled to breathe.

This same God would provide more than enough peace and strength and hope and joy…

She walked back down to the NICU and gazed in at her beautiful little girl and whispered a prayer.

A prayer of praise, glorifying God for His provision

A prayer of dedication, giving this baby back to her creator

And a prayer of faith, trusting Him to work His perfect will in her.



Are you struggling to breathe?

Are your shoulders low with the weight of concern over things you cannot control?

Is your mind burdened with the difficulties of life?

Is your heart heavy with sorrow?

Oh, stop.

Look into the grotto and see the Christ-child.

Look beyond the darkness of the cave and see the Savior.

See the God whose love is wide, long, high and deep.

Whisper a prayer of faith, trusting Him to work His perfect will.



God can.

This is Christmas.

Oh, that sweet tiny little girl born at 3:20am on Christmas Eve day?

She’s all grown up now and God is working His perfect will in her life as she is a beautiful, kind hearted gift to all who know her.

Sunday, December 6, 2015

The Little Marine Ornament Looking Up at Me

Freedom. Pride. America.

The little Marine ornament

Dressed in blue and smiling back at me,

Is a personal reminder

Freedom isn’t free.



Truths so familiar and yet unclear;

Will what has been always be?

And now a new light is shining

On the truth that freedom isn’t free.



The colors and lights are all the same;

The music is familiar… the aroma of the tree.

And yet there hangs an ornament;

It is a personal reminder that freedom isn’t free.



Old men with furrowed brow of experience untold,

History lessons of battles fought unselfishly

The sound of taps over flagged farewell

These are the sights and sounds of a freedom that isn’t free.



A mothers tear, a fathers faith

A sisters wishing, and a brothers pride that sees,

The grandparent’s prayers and the lover who waits,

With heavy hearts knowing freedom isn’t free.







We thank God for His priceless gift

Jesus, the author of love and grace and mercy

And we pray for His careful watch and protection

Over those who pay the price, for freedom isn’t free.



Enjoy the thrills this season brings

With grateful heart and bended knee

Whisper a prayer for those who answer the call

To sacrifice and protect a freedom that isn’t free.



We cannot take for granted

Years and tears and battles fought with bravery

We must defend and cherish this treasure

And refuse to forget that freedom isn’t free



The little Marine ornament

Dressed in blue and smiling back at me,

Is a personal reminder

Freedom isn’t free.