It Really Happened

I sat in the church pew as words from an old Christmas hymn pricked the callous formed on my heart by the rush of life. Being the preacher's wife, I sit near the front of the sanctuary, the sanctuary itself all decked out for Christmas, the nativity front and center, star of the show. Piano, drums, guitar, organ, and harmonica all rang out in celebration of a newborn King as my eyes fell upon the nativity before me. The Babe was held in the arms of Mary.  It looked as if she struggled to keep Him swaddled.  Joseph's right arm around her shoulders, his left holding a lantern to light the way. That's when I saw them.....

....Shepherds why this jubilee?
Why your joyous strains prolong?
What the gladsome tidings be
Which inspire your heavenly songs?

A tiny hand, fingers extended, a little foot with five small toes all wiggled from within the swaddling clothes. And my heart was reminded....

It really happened.

There really was a stable.

There really was a young girl, probably younger than my daughter.

There really was the pain of labor.

There really was an honorable young man by her side.

There really were angels who appeared to shepherds.

...Come to Bethlehem and see
Him whose birth the angels sing;
Come, adore on bended knee
Christ, the Lord,
The newborn King

It really happened.

Her exhausted head was probably propped upon a stone, sweat from labor forming on her brow, she probably longed for her mother.

Cries of pain from a young girl before the cries of a Baby King were audible.

There really was a dark night turned holy.

...See Him in a manger laid
Jesus, Lord of heaven and earth!
Mary, Joseph, lend your aid,
With us sing our Savior's birth.

My heart's callous peels back even farther and I sense His presence more fully as I think of those little hands and feet working their way from beneath the swaddle.

It really happened.

From the beginning, those hands were reaching out for mine.  From the beginning, those feet ready to run to my rescue.   To rescue me from myself.

This isn't just a story.

This really happened.

Glo-ori-a
In excelsis de-o
Glo-ori-a
In excelsis de-o

This is Christmas.