“Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing Him to be the gardener, she said to Him, “Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have laid Him, and I will take Him away.” ~ John 20:15
The last twenty four hours – bearer of agonizing anguish and hideous horror. Had I known what was to come, I would have stayed away – far away from you.
And I would have safeguarded myself from this enslaving loss. I would have listened to your compelling lessons – your world-altering truths. But I would have kept my distance
… and I, I would have sat not at your feet, but the foot of the hill. I’d have sought your perfect rest, but not at your breast.
And I can’t think of Judas and how you knew. You knew. And how Peter did just as you said – denied you. Three times denied you, and I … I wouldn’t have believed it.
The others you called, scattered. Frightened. Confused. Afraid for their lives, perhaps. And I, myself, afraid.
But the women … oh, the women … how they were there for you today along Golgotha’s way! They wiped your wounded face listened to your howls of pain watched your mother’s horror wailed until your life left and your silence spilled.
But the women remained (chained to image and sound that will never be loosed) – produced a ceaseless cry.
“Now when they drew near to Jerusalem and came to Bethphage, to the Mount of Olives, then Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village in front of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, you shall say, ‘The Lord needs them,’ and he will send them at once.” This took place to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet, saying, “Say to the daughter of Zion, ‘Behold, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden.” ~ Matthew 21:1-5
O Bethlehem, do you know the One you have birthed? Let the earth rejoice; raise her voice in song! For the long-awaited Christ was born of Mary – the very woman the angel blessed. She feeds the King at her breast, as angel choirs sing praise, and a star blazes above you, O little town.
No crown for this babe who is able to save, and will conquer the grave someday
At Christmastime, reflecting on our God, I see a rich and sumptuous show of grace. A story so enthralling bids me laud A baby boy, born in a lowly place.
God simply breathed, and life then came to be. He spoke-spilled stars that move at His command. He fashioned sand and man, and shell and sea, This God who values meek, as well as grand.
So when it came to paying debt of sin, He chose to do the grandest thing of all In such a way that awes me deep within: Majestic use of unforeseen, and small.
A vulnerable newborn was His means, Born of a humble woman in her teens.
“Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.” ~ Isaiah 7:14
“This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be pregnant through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was faithful to the law, and yet did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly. But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”).” ~ Matthew 1:18-23
“She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” ~ Matthew 1:21