The way it was

"This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger." -Luke 2:12

Well, okay, she's not necessarily in cloths as so much an adorable outfit. Also, if by manger you mean laundry basket, then yes this is like the nativity. Also if she weren't a she, the scene would be perfect. Also if there was no central heating. And if she were hundreds of miles from home. Also, if she was Jesus this would be exactly like Christmas morning (hmm, this example is quickly losing its relevance!). Well, she's not Jesus (although really, really good!) and not a lot of these things. But essentially this is it, people. 

Take away the pomp and circumstance created over a good 2040 years and at the heart of it all is a 8 pound baby like the rest of 'em. Basic needs tended to by humans. God tended to by humans. Angels rejoiced about him in far off skies to some bewildered shepherds, but the praise heard in the stable came in the form of the small, quiet noises of a newborn. I've had the pleasure for the past 24 hours of hearing these same sweet sounds from Kinley. As I sung her back to sleep at 5 a.m. I was struck at the same time by both the majesty and humility of Jesus' birth. Here I am singing classic carols, beautiful medleys meant to celebrate the birth of king, while staring vulnerability in the face. A precious face. A helpless baby. That's all He was. 

I mean, it's not all He was. No, He was also the embodiment of prophecy and promise of eternity. He is the promise of eternity. He is God.  But that night, no matter what we know comes of later in his life and no matter the power of God that brought Him there, he was a baby. And a baby is a baby is a baby. He wasn't performing miracles that night, though we herald his birth, death, and resurrection as the greatest miracle. No doubt it was a miracle that He came to Earth. But he was blowing spit bubbles, screaming and pooping like the rest of them. In order to be fully man, He had to be fully baby. Vulnerable. Dependent. Weak. And don't you know he had to have been some kind of cute!

(this is, by the way, my niece-in-law. My sister-in-law's niece. The Smith family claims her as their own though, because we are particularly close inlaws. Matter of a fact, we've made a nickname for them, which they use right back at us: the Outlaws)