What If...?

My husband got new glasses a month ago. He couldn't wait to show me the frames he'd selected --and to see clearly once again! Our youngest is excitedly waiting for the notification that his glasses have arrived, giving his teacher regular updates on the progress. I am noticing increased cloudiness in my vision --the apparent result of my cataracts worsening. 

Vision is important to the seeing. We rely on it, probably, as our primary sense. But how does our physical ability to see, the value we place on things like rods and cones, retinas and our optic nerves --how does this compare to our ability to see in the spiritual, supernatural realm? Even at my worst, blinking and straining to see the words on a page, my physical acuity is far too often sharper than my ability to see as God sees. I see the pain of a spouse caring for a loved one with dementia. I see the grief of a child at the loss of his mother. I see the brutality of self-indulgence and the harm it inflicts on the rest of the population. I see the decimation of families because of mental illness and addiction. I see poverty and hunger --of a physical and spiritual nature. I see the trouble, the tribulation, the trials of a world given to a vile Adversary and his sons of perdition. I see, and it wearies me.

But what if I tended and honed my spiritual vision? What if I recognized the good that God worked in my life as I cared for my mother in cognitive decline? What if I prayed to that end for the spouse? What if I leaned in toward that child and helped him grieve in a way that celebrates his mother and turns his eyes to the God who works all things out for good for His people? What if I saw that brutality as a summons to and work against it through community involvement and individual encouragement; stood up for what is right when confronted with wrong and prayed like never before that the harm would cease? What if, upon observing these shattered and chaotic families, I sought God's eyes, His deep love for each individual, His desire that none should receive eternal punishment, and asked Him to direct my service to them as He provides? What if I didn't turn away from the hungry eyes of the impoverished? What if I recognized my own poverty, those areas in which I have failed to walk in the benefits I have been given, things of life and godliness? What if acknowledged the existence of need but celebrated it as a privilege and an opportunity to serve one another as unto the Lord and not unto man? What if I met others exactly where they are and asked them to walk through this life with me? What if...?

I ask this in this season because this is a remembrance of miracles. It is in knowing who God is and all He can do that we find the encouragement to go on in this cursed place, to keep our eyes peeled for wonders. It is in obeying Him --planting gardens, having families, and praying for the good of this world --that we pledge our agreement with His plan, regardless of our physical landscapes. We remember the young virgin, her pregnancy beginning to show, who likely saw the sideways glances of those judging her. What if she'd feared them? We recall the man, glancing toward his betrothed, seeing her growing belly, knowing he'd not been intimate with her. What if he'd put her away to save himself from the humiliating stares of others? We celebrate the Babe, wrapped in strips of cloth against the cold, nursing at a young woman's breast, laid in a feeding trough, born into humanity. What if our evaluation was based solely on what our eyes beheld? Could we believe this was the King of kings, the Redeemer, Savior of the world? What would our vision tell us? Mary did not fear. Joseph did not disobey. What would you choose? What if you chose to give your life to Him today? 

Midweek: Break

Broken to Breathless is taking a break today --certainly NOT from sobriety --but from posting. So, shut off your phone (it is possible), spend some time with the family, and revel in the season! 

I will be 😁 

How You Will Know

 Here is how you will know: you will find a baby wrapped in cloth and lying in a feeding trough.

~ Luke 2:12 (Complete Jewish Bible)

The announcement to shepherds by the angel. Here is how you will know... Plain language, specific information. If you were announcing the coming of a king, isn't this how you would do it? Simple and specific, sure; but impoverished and among livestock? 

First of all, I imagine a trained security detail and the cordoning off of areas to prevent people from being trampled in the excitement of peeping a king. I think of months of special announcements and the disseminating of information to the public. Eleventh Street will be closed between Reed and Ford Streets from 5 to 10 each evening as grandstands are being constructed. Subways will be running extra legs to and from the viewing area. I'd probably hire extra guides to assist visitors and maintain traffic flow; maybe even rent one of those huge spotlights just to make the event more spectacular! I'd want the king to feel at home, so, an entire floor of the "five-starriest" five-star --maybe even the whole place! --would be booked and an extravagant dais would await his appearance. On that dais, he will be presented with a beautiful, custom robe, handmade of the finest textiles, trimmed in the rarest gems, and lined with the most expensive of furs. He will ride to and from the city in a marvelous carriage (or a triple black G-Wagen, to give things a more modern flare). You would know, the man who sits upon such a grand and luxurious throne in such a grand and luxurious throne room, is a man of import, power, and great wealth!

But our King, this long-awaited Messiah, Savior and Deliverer of the world arrived accompanied by plain language, specific information; nothing of the trappings you would expect to herald the arrival of the King of kings. There was no security detail. In fact, all were welcome then as they are today; there are no cheap seats in the Kingdom of God and all who will can become children of the King. His birth was heralded by angels, by psalmists and prophets, and by God Himself in the Garden of Eden. A star --one He'd created so many years before as He sat with His Father in the throne room of Heaven --a solitary, bright star served as guide to those who sought Him; no spotlight or marquee could ever compare. Jesus left His heavenly home, a palace more glorious and grand than the minds of men can contrive, to dwell with us, to need, to sniffle and sweat, all for the sake of humanity's deliverance. He donned not an expensive robe, but simple strips of the meanest cloth, lovingly wrapped about His tiny frame, keeping out cold and comforting Him --for now --from the travail of the life that had just begun. His carriage, the womb of a virgin, had been a warm, safe place; more comfortable than the stern of a storm-tossed boat, though He slept soundly in the favor of His Father there; more protected than the crude, blood-stained wood of an execution stake, though He willingly remained in peril unto death there. The throne room of this Infant King was extemporaneous, with little consideration toward providing for the needs of creatures of a two-legged variety; certainly not the place in which any baby --much less the Holy Child --should be delivered. His throne? A feeding trough. Where was Child Services? Was this the sort of birth, the coming of a king, the means by which anyone would know their Savior has come? 

No sooner had the angels left them and gone back into heaven than the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, that ADONAI has told us about.”  ~ Luke 2:15 (CJB)

And see. Assured they would see, assured the sign would be just as they were told, assured they would know. Hurrying off, they came and found... (v.16) Eager to go; but what did they find?

Meanwhile, the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for everything they had heard and seen; it had been just as they had been told. ~ Luke 2:20 (CJB) 

The cloth. The trough. They knew. Our King has come.