From Heaven to Birth

    I wanted to write a poem about Christmas, but the concept is both too familiar and too grand for me. Instead, I have written this prayer:

Lord,

There is nothing new for me to say about Christmas. I have no words different or better than those of the prose and poems and hymns of others. I have only amazement that the Son of God chose to enter humanity through the door of Christmas, to remain forever in human flesh. Amazed that in inscrutable grace you chose conception in the womb of a young woman whose only qualification for the job was willingness to obey the Lord she loved. I am amazed that you chose to be born, not in a palace, nor even the simplicity of a peasant hut, but in a stable, surrounded by animals. I'm amazed that you chose as your first worshipers the unwashed outcasts of the working world--shepherds. That of all the people on the earth, they were chosen to see and hear the praise of angels. And if angels praised this event which made no change at all in their status before God, what should I do whose salvation depends upon it?

All I can do is read the accounts, sing the carols, and echo the praises of those who believed before me. And to marvel in the miracle of a Savior who chose to be Emmanuel, God with us. The door from heaven to birth that you opened at Christmas, remains open for all you have inexplicably chosen for spiritual birth. Even I, who am often unwilling to obey, and love many things more than you. And would be totally unwilling to become a helpless babe again, or be born in a stable, or reach out to unwashed outcasts. All I have to offer is amazement and wholly inadequate praise.