A season of arrival

Thinking back to long ago Christmas seasons which usually started about the second week of December for most families, I’ve realized that those days were as joyous as they were for more than one reason. I wasn’t quite sure of the Santa Claus thing, but I was sure that my Daddy was on his way home after four long years of prayers that my mother never missed. Though I scarcely remembered him, I knew he was very special because anyone that meant so much to Mom had to be special.

His return ran a “close as a whisker” race with that newborn in Bethlehem that we celebrated and sang about. I was too young to appreciate the connection my mother saw between the two happenings, but somehow it did enter my thinking that the connection was real, and vital to understand how that infant was to impact my life and the lives of so many around me.

Only a few short years later, those prayers were repeated for my older brother as he served in the Korean conflict, and a few years later as my younger brother served in that Asian conflict. In each case, prayers were answered with the safe return of loved ones even though many friends were not able to say the same.

That’s where the Christmas event comes into our lives. Somehow that baby has come to signify the goodness of God, and the season promises a renewal of the promise, that regardless of the problems and pain we see around us, and often experience ourselves, this world with all its natural disasters and human failings cannot overcome that Baby.

That stable is still blessed by His presence, those miracles still happened and are happening, and the hope and solace He brings are still sufficient to meet our deepest needs. May the Spirit of that Baby bring a peaceful blessed season to you and yours.