And now, I see it all differently. The carols all mean more. I'm seeing the nativity with fresh eyes. Even the star on top of my tree makes me giddy. Emmanuel has come. Redemption has been given a body and a mother and a home in this world. The tiny, infant Jesus, God in flesh, is a perfect picture of our Father's redemptive heart for us. He nailed himself to our poor plant, so that we could be free.
There is much more, but I'll let the poem speak for itself. Merry Christmas!
by Luci Shaw
Blue homespun and the bend of my breast
keep warm this small hot naked star fallen
to my arms. (Rest... you who have had so far to come.)
Now nearness satisfies the body of God sweetly.
Quiet he lies whose vigor hurled a universe. He sleeps
whose eyelids have not closed before.
His breath (so slight it seems
no breath at all) once ruffled the dark deeps
to sprout a world. Charmed by dove's voices,
the whisper of straw, he dreams,
hearing no music from his other spheres.
Breath, mouth, ears, eyes
he is curtailed who overflowed all skies,
all years. Older than eternity, now he
is new. Now native to earth as I am, nailed
to my poor planet, caught
that I might be free, blind in my womb
to know my darkness ended,
brought to this birth for me to be new-born,
and for him to see me mended
I must see him torn.