random robin

a quiet mystery

It’s still a mystery to me
That the hands of God can be so small
How tiny fingers reaching in the night
Were the very hands that measured the sky
It’s still a mystery to me
How His infant eyes have seen the dawn of time
How His ears have heard an angel symphony
But Mary still had to rock her saviour to sleep

Hallelujah, hallelujah
Heaven’s love reaching down to save the world
Son of God, Servant King
Here with us, You’re here with us

These are the words to a song Candy sang tonight at our church service. The melody is beautifully haunting, perfect for the thoughts that emerge from the lyrics. I have often pondered this whole idea of the Incarnation and the reality of becoming human as Jesus did that night. It’s a mystery and one that leaves me in total awe.

There was a time in my life when I thought it was all a hoax. A big fat lie that some kooky group of people put together as an elaborate scheme to overthrow a government or launch a new religion or sell cheap trinkets. I was so perplexed by the concept of Almighty Creator of the universe becoming an infant who dirtied His diaper; who chose to pick some teenaged chick to knock up and make her suffer through life as “that” girl. And worse to come, make her watch her Son be tortured and abused and hung to die.

I think about these things still. I wonder if this was such a great plan. The cynical side of me says that God is pretty weird really and has a strange way of leading His people to saving Grace.

But the side of me that is humbled and broken speaks louder tonight. I hear the fact of the matter – that Jesus chose to take on a fleshly form and struggle through life, that He has faced every temptation, every hunger, every weakness and sickness, every desire and every sorrow. And He did this for me, so I could see Him and know Him beyond a doubt.

In times of quiet desperation, as Thoreau would call it, I find great solace in Jesus’ humanity. I imagine Him, broken, saddened, frustrated, confused (this may be debatable) and weary of this world. And I cannot help but feel at ease, feeling the Voice of God whispering to me, this for you. It isn’t an easy Voice to hear for me at times. in fact, it can be painful, even harrowing. But in my distress, my heart gives way to peace that I cannot explain and won’t even try. I am filled with the mystery of it all tonight and all I can do is sing…

Hallelujah

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