Once my children had alerted the neighbors, they were ready to meet their proudly-proclaimed sister. With Grandma’s help, they arrived at the hospital within hours of Hannah’s arrival. Dressed in Sunday best, Lukas and Elizabeth nearly tripped over one another as they tumbled excitedly through the door of my quiet hospital room. However, as their eyes landed on the tiny bundle that lay in my arms, my fast-paced children slowed to an uncharacteristic halt. Elizabeth scooted shyly into Grandma’s arms, while Lukas stood frozen in the doorway.
Finally, my eldest edged closer to the bed. True to his word, the first thing Lukas did was unwrap Hannah’s swaddles of pink and gently caress each wiggling toe. From there, my awestruck son moved on to her tiny fingers, her pug nose, and her two puffy eyes. He touched every wrinkle of soft skin, kissed the fuzzy splattering of hair, and marveled at God’s handiwork displayed in the shape of a newborn child.
“We have seen his glory…” the beloved disciple writes in his account of Jesus (John 1:14). While John wasn’t the only one to get a glimpse of the Savior, he was one of the few who claimed to have beheld His glory. I’ve often wondered about the others- the multitudes who flocked to the bronzed Galilean as he healed the sick and prophesied the future. Hadn’t they, too, seen his splendor? Or had they simply been entertained by the hoopla that his arrival had created?
Perhaps this year we need to ask ourselves the same question. Have we peeked beneath the layers of lights and trees and shopping lists long enough to see a baby born King? Have we truly seen his glory or have we just spotted the gala that surrounds his birth? The lesson my five-year old taught me as he cherished his newborn sister was simple: We can’t see Christ from afar. We can acknowledge his arrival and perhaps celebrate his goodness as we peek from the doorway of our demanding lives, but we can’t behold his glory until we get close enough to unwrap the most amazing gift of Christmas and study the ten toes that trod up Calvary’s Hill in our place.
More than shopping trips or perfectly strung lights, more than church services or caroling parties, we desperately need to find ways to bring our fast-paced lives to an uncharacteristic halt for a while this holiday season. We won’t experience the Miracle if we are racing past the manger to get to the mall. Try saying “no” to at least one extra activity this month. Cut your shopping time significantly by drawing names instead of buying for everyone on your list. Organize a cookie exchange to cut down on holiday baking. Better yet, cut the fuss and the calories and decide to dine on the sweet promises of God’s word instead of on homemade fudge. Try turning off the latest Christmas special on T.V. and curling up by candlelight to read the gospels’ account of the Nativity. Do whatever works for you, but take the Heavenly Father’s timeless advice: “Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).
Be careful, though. Once you draw near, you may never be the same again. “Something happens to a person who has witnessed His Majesty,” Max Lucado writes in his classic book God Came Near. “He becomes addicted. One glimpse of the King and you are consumed by a desire to see more of him and say more about him… Once you have seen his face you will forever long to see it again.”
The Overflow: “For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.” -2 Corinthians 4:6
