We know the story of Christmas. Many of us can quote it from Luke 2 from memory, because it was read to us every Christmas since we can remember. The wise men from the East were part of the church pageant that we helped play years ago. A stable with animals, a manger, shepherds with lambs, bright angels, kings with precious gifts—all these have surrounded the baby Christ-child, until now they seem more fable than a reality so quietly profound that it changed the course of history.
Maybe this particular December, this story seems more “sweet” and “nice” than earthshaking. But when we snap back into reality from magical ambience of Christmas days, we are more likely to cry for a solution to the world’s, and our own personal chaos. In our individual story, this God sometimes seems so far away.
Broken hearts, broken homes, broken children, broken churches, broken communities and, yes, our own broken country—all cry together for this Jesus to please come on down from His throne in heaven and comfort our children, mend our families, and restore some kind of idealized normality to our world. There seems to be a disconnect between our Christmas wonder and the shambles we have together (or apart) made of things.
In a song (“Rest in You Tonight”) that Bill wrote with Larry Gatlin, there is a picture of a lonely child peering through a frozen window, watching for a dad that really isn’t coming home with gifts for this Christmas Eve...or ever.
But the promise of that star and manger, stable, and host of angels is this: our Father did and always does come home to where we are. And no matter what chaos rages around us outside, the HERE He came to, was the home of our hearts. He came to bring peace and joy, and the best gifts ever to fill the hole in our souls.
Hark! The angels sing! Again and again and again! Yes, the hopes and fears of all the years are met in Him—tonight!
