Jesus Was A Baby

For some reason,
this Christmas season it has really sunk in:
Jesus was a baby.
All these years I have known this.
He was swaddled with strips of cloth and laid in a manger.
This I know.

This year though, I understand it in a different way.
This is my first Christmas as a mother,
along with that I am also reading Francine River's novel about
Mary's story, Unafraid.
Reading Mary's account of being the mother of Jesus 
helped me make sense of the fact that our Savior was once a helpless babe.
Watching Claire grow and her world expand,
it helps me to appreciate the full life of Jesus.

Not only was He a teacher,
a Healer, a Savior -
He was an infant who nursed at His mother's breast.
A crying baby as he cut his first teeth.
He wobbled with His first steps.
He looked at His hands and toes with great curiousity
as Claire does.
He smiled when He played with His dad.
He learned simple words and animal sounds,
He chewed on fingers, on toys.
He learned to eat, He squealed with delight.
He had rolls on His arms, wrists and thighs,
just like Claire does.
Picturing our Almighty in the form of a baby
really makes me understand just how gracious,
and creative,
our God is! 

Who would have thought
the the Savior of His people,
the Light of the World
would come to us in the form of a baby?
A human?


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