Hi Friends,
As I begin to prepare my heart for Christmas, and also write the chapter of my new book on Mary that looks at the birth in the barn, I consider this:
I am reminded of this:
Jesus is not born in our pastel palaces ... He is born in our life-barns -- in the stink, in the noise, in the places that are not as they should be. Look for Him there.
And I am also considering the message of this poem that I wrote a few years ago -- where am I, where is my heart and focus, this Christmas?
WHERE WAS I?
Where was I
When the King was born?
Was I at the inn,
Too crowded for Him,
With packages, boxes, and bags?
Where was I
When God became man?
Tending sheep far away,
Lest one go astray,
Blind to even the angels?
Where was I
When Christ first wept?
Was I on the road,
Rushing to and fro,
Too busy to notice the star?
Where am I
This Christmastide?
Am I in the stall,
Forsaking all,
To worship the King of kings?
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