Just some early morning thoughts from me to you…
“For unto us a child is born, unto us a Son is given, and the government will be on His shoulders…He will reign upon David’s throne and over His kingdom, establishing it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever.”
Isaiah 9:6, 7
It happened a few years ago. Actually eleven years ago. It will remain forever.
As my younger Granddaughter Ellie was discussing important matters with me on the carpet in front of the Christmas tree in the upstairs bedroom shared by her and her older sister, Hannah, in our home, there came a point where I had to lean in a bit closer to hear her words. She was kneeling and had just turned to wrap her three-year-old arms around an eighteen-inch-high and now forty-nine-year-old plastic lighted Santa we have put out each year since our son was born.
“I love you Santa,” she whispered as she nestled him into her cheek.
Our Granddaughter Ellie’s gentle sincerity flowed from the depth of the experiences of her young life. Santa Claus always brought presents to her and her sister at Christmas. Santa took good care of Rudolph and his other reindeer every day. Santa was always happy, and glad to see everyone. Santa loved his appointed mission and proved it with his jolly “Ho! Ho! Ho!”, as he circled the world from rooftop to rooftop making sure that children everywhere received presents for Christmas.
“I love you Santa,” she whispered again. It all seemed very appropriate.
To her all was well as she hugged her beloved Santa Claus. She was not aware of the news accounts of the day. I remember praying silently as I watched her that her life would never change, that the child-like innocence of the moment would be forever captured in the rest of her life. I pray that for her and her sister Hannah every night.
I prayed again that her parents and others would protect her innocence—and that of her sister—forever; that they would protect and keep her close always. And that they would continue to remind her each day of the story of a Child being born so many years ago—in a manger, in a stable behind an inn, in Bethlehem. A strange story of a tiny baby—a remarkable Child—wrapped in a blanket by his mother and father and surrounded by an Angel, a few sheep, some shepherds and three curious kings who followed a star.
A wonderful Child Who—no matter the ways of the world—will always and ultimately be in control of that final evening news story of history. A Child always in control of how it all would all end, for His glory and the eternal good of those who loved and believed in Him.
A warm and welcoming Child—in the person of Jesus. A Child whom Ellie, a few years later, welcomed into her heart. As I watched her that evening years ago, I took comfort in envisioning her one day nestled in His strong and protective arms which would hold her forever and ever—probably something even Santa couldn’t guarantee.
I had to lean in closer to hear her words. And also to be able to hold her again in my arms—a small substitute for the arms of the One Who now holds her forever. But it was an opportunity for yet another hug from her, which I never dared let pass by me.
It is a moment and reminder of the embrace available for each of us from the One—the Child Who came to be born in the manger—Who will hold us, forever. And we dare not let it pass us by.
All is well my friends. No matter what the news accounts of the day seem to say, or what tomorrow may bring—All is well.
And all because of a Child in a manger, in a stable behind an inn, in Bethlehem, over two-thousand years ago. And accepting that, and accepting Him into our hearts and lives, is our strength, comfort and peace for today and tomorrow, and our assurance of eternity with Him.
Only God could stage it that way. All is well. All is well.
In His Name—Scott