Shortgrass
Well-known member
I had my thoughts all typed out and ready to post, but when we got this note from my # 2 daughter, formerly of Wisconsin fame, but more recently from Savonburg, Kansas, I thought her thoughts beat mine all hollow. Here is what she said.........
"I am writing this letter to the background noise of mice scurrying around in our new home. I hate mice. As I sat in my living room moments ago, it occurred to me that the fuzzy rodents were probably among the privileged guests at the birth of a very special baby."
"I cringed a couple of hours ago as I laid my youngest son down for a nap in the same room where one of these creatures had just scurried. I wonder how God the Father felt as he watched Mary lay His own son down in a place crawling with rodents and filled with dirt, yet the scripture tells us of heaven's rejoicing at this birth. Hmmm. Rejoicing was not something that would come to mind as I consider these circumstances. God, alone, knew the extent of the filth that his beloved would be exposed to, and immersed in, as He sent Him to a stable in Bethlehem on that first Christmas day. Mice were not the worst of it. The sin of the world, mine included, was. Was I really that important to my creator that God would rejoice that his son would have the opportunity to come and take on the worst of my filth for Himself, and pay for it in the worst imaginable way before His resurrection would forever defeat it? YES! YES! The wonderful message of Christmas! May we not get so distracted by the trappings of our environment that we forget to rejoice as well at the hope that outweighs our filth!"
Have a good Sunday mornin', and thanks, Becky, for the reminder.
"I am writing this letter to the background noise of mice scurrying around in our new home. I hate mice. As I sat in my living room moments ago, it occurred to me that the fuzzy rodents were probably among the privileged guests at the birth of a very special baby."
"I cringed a couple of hours ago as I laid my youngest son down for a nap in the same room where one of these creatures had just scurried. I wonder how God the Father felt as he watched Mary lay His own son down in a place crawling with rodents and filled with dirt, yet the scripture tells us of heaven's rejoicing at this birth. Hmmm. Rejoicing was not something that would come to mind as I consider these circumstances. God, alone, knew the extent of the filth that his beloved would be exposed to, and immersed in, as He sent Him to a stable in Bethlehem on that first Christmas day. Mice were not the worst of it. The sin of the world, mine included, was. Was I really that important to my creator that God would rejoice that his son would have the opportunity to come and take on the worst of my filth for Himself, and pay for it in the worst imaginable way before His resurrection would forever defeat it? YES! YES! The wonderful message of Christmas! May we not get so distracted by the trappings of our environment that we forget to rejoice as well at the hope that outweighs our filth!"
Have a good Sunday mornin', and thanks, Becky, for the reminder.