Raindrops in the Ocean

The incarnation, to me, holds more wonder than the cross.  Don’t get me wrong.  I do not mean to take away from the cross at all.  It is, in fact, rooted in the incarnation, and the two are inseparable.  The thing that gets me is that God changed His form for eternity when He became a boy and then a man.  He chose our weakness, and so changed what it means to be human.  He made Himself small enough to fit inside our skin, walk through our dirt and all the yuck that comes with being human. 

This Christmas comes at a time when most people find themselves in the middle of loss, heartache, financial strain, and confusion.  For some, tinsel trees and twinkling lights only seem to drive the pain a little deeper.  We are trying to stir up some semblance of Joy to the World and find ourselves woefully short of jolly.  Here is the place where we are most, not least, like Christmas.  The incarnation came to a world that was dark, where God had been silent for some 400 years, where hope seemed pointless. 

And yet in the Christmas story, we find people waiting, hoping beyond hope, looking for Messiah.  I want to challenge you to look at the story again.  Find yourself in the story.  I will be retelling the story here, looking at each of the characters in their waiting.  First I want to ask you to consider, where are you waiting for God to become real, to meet you in the mess, to shine light in your darkness?  Where do you need Heaven to invade Earth?