We got out our Christmas decorations last week. So many magical things come out of those boxes from the shed. Our two-year-old was totally wonderstruck by the lights and trees and stockings and ornaments.
But his favorite is our toy nativity scene. From the moment Jude met Baby Jesus, he was in love.
So far today, Baby Jesus has been covered with blankets, buckled into baby brother’s car seat, and kissed and hugged more times than I can count. (And lost under the couch for a few fateful minutes.)
We talk about Jesus a lot at our house. We sing about Him and pray to Him. But a tiny plastic Jesus that fits in your hands is something totally new to our little man.
He must think we’ve been holding out on him.
“Hold up. Jesus was a baby? I thought I kindof liked Jesus, but you never told me he has hands and a nose and I can share my Cheerios with him! Baby Jesus? Real-person, huggable Jesus? This changes everything!”
I’m feeling a little like Jude this year.
By the end of November at the end of a long long year, my heart needs to be reminded of Baby Jesus.
God actually came, friends. He put on baby flesh and showed up!
No less God, no less powerful. Just present. Approachable. See-able. Adore-able.
Oh come, let us adore Him.