Luke 2:8-20
My nephew Connor was born nearly a month early. My husband and I had just visited the weekend before to help my brother and sister-in-law assemble the crib, wash onesies, and set up the changing station. About 36 hours after we left, Connor entered the world in wrinkly, red-faced glory. We let his ecstatic grandparents visit first, then set out ourselves a few weekends later. The gas pumps were genuinely slower than molasses. A downed tree entirely blocked our intended route, forcing us to double back and find an alternate. Monticello’s main thoroughfare was almost entirely closed due to a festival. Construction on I-20 slowed our progress to a crawl. I saw an ostrich. The three-hour trip took nearly six, but at the end we got to meet our nephew and hear firsthand the tale of his birth.
A new baby is definitely a sight to behold. Worth hours of driving, flying if necessary, and dozens of unforeseen complications to get to see that little wonder. Of course, we were happy and eager to see the new parents, too—but the baby.
As the shepherds prove in today’s story, a baby doesn’t even have to be related to us for the visit to be worth the journey. We seek out wonder, delight in surprises, and crave the story that helps us understand it all. The shepherds begin surprised and terrified, then the angels reassure them and tell them a deeply compelling story. It was so compelling, they went in haste to find this child for themselves (v. 16). Upon finding him, they couldn’t keep the wondrous story to themselves, and all who heard it were amazed (v. 18). May it be so with us as both hearers and storytellers this Christmas.
Consider
We’re still telling the story that so enraptured the shepherds. How does it feel newly wonderful to you this year?
Pray
God of glory, Lord of light, as we open ourselves to the joy of Christmas, fill us with delight and wonder and make us grateful for every instance of your new birth. Amen.
This post originally appeared in Reflections: Daily Devotional Guide volume 32.1.
