In these final hours before Christmas day, an urging in my spirit beckons me back to the ancient texts that tell the story of how love came down on that first Christmas in Bethlehem. And who better to recite that text to us today than Linus. Take it away, my blue-blanket-lovin’-buddy:
I love that after hearing Linus’ speech, Charlie Brown’s tree isn’t so broken anymore. He can see past its failings to see its true potential. Its beauty despite the thinning needles.
Kind of like how God sees us.
We’re so messed up, we really are. You need only turn on the news for five seconds to see that validated. Or hop inside my head when someone cuts me off in traffic.
But thank goodness that’s not the end of our story. Thank goodness the plot thickened when God sent his precious son to earth as a baby, to put on our sorry flesh and walk among us…laugh beside us…cry with us…and ultimately pay the price for us through death on a cross. To save us from the messed up sin that rattles within us all.
I was reading from Ann Voskamp’s blog last week and got knocked over by these words of truth she shared:
…If there is no cross in my Christmas, then my Christmas has lost Christ, and what is the manger if it not for the Messiah, the one who saves us with the scars?
This Babe who lays in a wooden manger, who came to lie on a wooden Cross, He is healing all wounds…
This Christmas, may we quiet the maddening roar to hear the good word of the angels afresh:
Fear not! For behold I give you tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a savior, which is Christ the Lord.
Christ the Lord. The one to rescue us. The one to offer a healing balm for our oozing wounds. The one to transform a dejected and damaged Christmas tree into a redeemed thing of glory.
Merry Christmas, dear reader. From one broken tree to another.
P.S. Here’s last year’s Christmas Eve post…with the nativity story as told by kids. Kids from New Zealand. So, prepare for cute-kids-with-accents overload.