The Christmas story is a messy one.
An unmarried mother, a hurried and hushed wedding (you know they HAD to get married, don’t you!).
Life is messy.
It rarely fits into the tidy boxes we create for our convenience.
My grief has taught me that really, we are all a mess.
Some of us are better at hiding it but I’ve learned that sharing my own brokenness invites others to do the same.
Losing a child opened my heart as never before to the broken and wounded and ignored of the earth.
And isn’t that really the message of Christmas—that the Almighty God Who is unapproachable in His holiness, comes to us as the Babe in the manger–inviting us to draw near in our brokenness and receive grace, mercy and love?
Maybe the best way to honor the Son of God leaving the glorious perfection of heaven to enter the world in poverty and dependence is not creating lovely tablescapes and piling packages under a decorated tree.
Maybe the best way to honor Christ’s birth is to open our hearts and homes
to the outcast,
and the disregarded.