Friday, December 25, 2015

A Heavenly Cry




The cries of a baby pierce the silence. A young mother, exhausted from days of travel and hours of labor lifts a tiny body to her chest and looks into the face of Heaven.  A man stands beside the woman he loves and her child and vows to protect them both until the last breath leaves his body. 

A new family has been born in a cold world that is sick with sin and despair and these tiny pink hands hold the cure. As Mary tries to hush the cries of this new life I wonder if she stops to think that the voice that fills her ears is the same voice that spoke the world into existence. I wonder if she takes the time to contemplate that this tiny baby she holds in her hands is the God that created her and everything around them. 

She wraps him tight in swaddling clothes and holds him even tighter in her arms. She soothes him with her voice and loves him with all that she has. And I wonder if she realizes that the son she holds will one day lay down his life for her and become her savior. 

Shepherds appear and tell of angel choirs that announced the birth of Jesus. And I wonder if Mary knows that one day those shepherds will be replaced with angry crowds that demand his life and his blood. 

As she looks off into the darkness does she ponder blind eyes and deaf ears being healed by the one so tiny and small that clings to her. 

Wise men come bearing gifts fit for a king and does she know that one day they will be replaced by a friend that will betray him with a kiss. 

Does she know that his purpose for being born is simply to die! To take her sins and my sins and your sins upon himself and then to lay down his own sinless life to reconcile the world back to God. 

Tiny feet that she will teach to walk will one day walk up Calvary’s hill. 

A gentle voice that she will teach to speak will one day cry out from the cross for God to forgive wicked men. 

Tiny hands that cling to her now will one day have nails driven into them. 

Mary’s precious gift from God will one day give the world the most precious gift it has even been given. Salvation. 

As she holds this tiny new life in her arms and rocks the King of Kings to sleep for the first time does she hear the sound of hammers in the distance.  Are the muffled cries of “Crucify Him” drowned out by the praise of the shepherds and wise men. 

And I cannot help but wonder can she see the shadow of the cross that surely lays across his manger.

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