There’s a picture tacked to the bulletin board in our schoolroom. It was taken by my friend Mary when Isaiah was born.
The picture is of toddler Gabriel. He’s peeking into newborn Isaiah’s bassinette.
Mary and I had been visiting, talking about the baby, when Gabriel popped up, under the lacy hood of the basket. His small, pink fingers curled over the edge. His cheeks were flushed against the bedding of pure white. And his eyes were full of wonder.
Wide-eyed wonder of what lay inside.
As I look at this picture today, a sweet favorite of mine, I think about Christmas. There’s something about Gabe’s expression. Something that I want to claim and cherish and hold in my own heart.
I want to look at Christmas this way. I want to look at Lord Jesus this way. I want to live and breathe the wonder that His birth brings to me.
To me, it’s a very personal thing. The Lord sent His Son with a purpose and a plan. That plan stretches deep into my spirit and is a matter of spiritual life or death.
Because of the babe, I am free from condemnation.
Because of the babe, my eternity is sealed.
Because of the babe, I can enjoy personal and intimate fellowship with the Father.
Because of the babe, I am set free.
The season will be full of family. Full of friends. Full of celebration and fellowship and joy. But I don’t want the rush of the season to cause me to just skim the surface of God’s grace gift.
I want to ponder, to appreciate, in a deep place. To peer, like my sweet Gabe, with a heart open wide. I want to see. To feel. To be moved. Touched by love. Changed by grace.
Wide-eyed wonder.
Oh Lord, let it be mine.
