The Lord was born on Earth — on our planet. Once upon a time, our Savior, the Lord God Jesus Christ, walked on this very surface. He was born as an infant, a tiny, helpless baby: dependent on the willingness of a young woman and a young man to take care of Him. I cannot begin to wrap my mind around that!

Every year, it hits me that this really happened. Our savior was a real human. At one point, He was so small that He could not speak words. At one point, our Savior was learning how to walk! When I was a child, I asked my father if Jesus, as an infant, could have looked at a tree and already known what it was. Even as a child, I was thinking about how it could be that the God of the universe was once an infant! And He was born for us. My heart feels the awe of it.

Christmas is often overwhelming for many: the stress of getting everything done combined with far too much sugar and not enough sleep. However, my experience has shifted drastically. I still cry from too much sugar, not enough sleep, and the pressure of getting it all done, but the most overwhelming feeling in December is awe. I think about the reality of the Christmas story and what it took for everyone to play his or her part. Jesus Himself is obviously the most important focus of the story. How often do we think of the Lord’s innocence: the trust it took for Him to come as an infant, dependent on the innocence of others to do their part? He was dependent on the willingness of others to trust in the Divine and eternal plan. This is true innocence: a willingness to be led by the Lord. It is not naivete or guiltlessness. It is trust!

Mary’s willingness is another strong focus: “Behold the maidservant of the Lord, let it be to me according to thy word.” I am amazed by the innocence and trust it required to accept this magnificent job with humility. Motherhood is one of the highest uses there is — especially to mother Jesus Christ. Continue reading The Innocence of the Lord’s Birth →

“Use what talents you possess: the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best” (Henry Van Dyke).

When I was twelve, my family moved to Bryn Athyn. I was excited to move to a congregation with other church people my age who cared about the things I loved so much. I was disappointed. I found few kindred spirits, but at the time I mostly felt mocked for my strong convictions. In the spring of that year, we had dance classes. With 27 girls and far fewer boys, it did not bode well. The rule was that once the first batch of girls were asked, it was assumed the boys would ask the “leftover” girls for the next dance. Then once all the girls had been chosen, they could re-ask the other more popular girls.

One day when I was standing in the reject corner (like I did every week), all the other “second class” girls were picked before me. I watched as one boy took one look at me, chose to ignore the rule, and went back to the popular corner. I wanted to cry. Instead, I just walked over to join the other girls who were not dancing. It left me wondering what I had done wrong to deserve such treatment. Was I not good enough? I repeated this question to myself over and over, feeling like I was inferior to everyone else.

Looking back, I can clearly see that I was not the problem in that equation. Perhaps the boy who snubbed me was just thoughtless. Perhaps he was dealing with his own inadequacies. Either way, I did not need to take it personally, but I did of course. I was an insecure girl and it hurt. Continue reading Leaving Inadequacy Behind →