He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said, “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”
Whew, time for bed. What a Christmas day it had been. Up at 6—grandma, it’s time to see if Santa’s been here—followed by the Christmas story, stockings, breakfast, gifts, lunch, more presents, play, dinner, more play, exhaustion. It’s time to lay down those sleepy heads. But Ty, the youngest, had one more thing to do—write a letter to God with his brand new fluorescent pens. A genuine switch in focus:
Tell your son I said happy Birthday.
Thank you for giving us the stregth (sic) to take our eyes off the Christmas tree and think
about the real reason we selabrate (sic) Christmas. Amen.
Ah, the wonder of a little child: From the lips of children and infants you have ordained praise (Psalm 8:2).
Wednesday is the perfect day to concentrate on the wonder of the Christ child. We are so caught up in the wrapping paper and tinsel, we forget the reason for the season. God the Father knew, way back when, the role His child would play:
For to us a child is born, to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders,
And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Luke 1&2 are loaded with wonder. Consider Zechariah and Elizabeth, way too old to have a child. How about Mary, when Gabriel told her she would birth the Savior? And the shepherds keeping watch in the fields—first to visit the Christ in the manger. I wonder if the angels wondered?
Every Christmas I am prompted to wonder by the haunting melody of this traditional Appalachian carol, by John Jacob Niles (1933):
I wonder as I wander out under the sky,
How Jesus the Savior did come for to die.
For poor on’ry people like you and like I …