This one comes from Max Lucado, who always finds the best words to say on a given occasion:
The Good News of Christmas
And the angel said to the Shepherds, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign to you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.” (Luke 2:10-12)
Familiar verses, aren’t they? So familiar, in fact, that it is easy to miss just how remarkable they are…
Fear not…
I bring you good news…
A Savior is born…
He’s lying in a manger…
The birth of Jesus is not the way we would have planned it. No person, however poor, should have to be born in a stable. No delivery room, no doctor. Hay on the floor, animals all around. And the smell! The mess! This is no place for a royal birth.
But God sees things differently. He chose a manger over a mansion. He picked a carpenter over a king. He designed a quiet coming over a worldwide celebration. Why would God the Creator of heaven and earth, send his Son to be born in such a lowly place?
Perhaps Jesus, the only Son of God, was born in a stable to give hope to all whose lives look like one. We sure do make a mess of things. Sometimes our actions stink. And though we try to make the best of it, the winter wind still sneaks into the corners of our lives, and the nights get cold and dark.
Too many days too far from God? Too many years too hard on others? Too much mess? God knows…and he has some amazing words for you.
I bring you good news…
I’ll give you great joy…
I sent the Savior, Christ the Lord!
Want to know God’s answer to deepest longings of your life? “For God loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal live” (John 3:16).
Here we find the answer, in the most unexpected place. Look long at heaven’s barn-born baby—he’s the Holy One sleeping in the hay—and listen as God whispers: No mess turns me back, no smell turns me away. I was born to live in lives like yours.
He knows exactly what you’re like. And still he loves you. He simply awaits your invitation to come in. One word from you and God will do again what he did back then. He’ll place his Son in the stable of your heart. He’ll give you the gift of eternal life.
Good News! Great joy! Eternal life! Would you like to receive this gift this Christmas? Will you tell God you do?
“Father, I believe you love me. You gave your one and only Son for me –born in a manger, dying on the cross to pay for my sins, rising again to save me. I accept your gift to live with you forever with you. Apart from you, I die. With you, I live. I choose life. I choose you.”
Amen.
2015 promises to be a pivotal year in terms of prophetic fulfillment, there is no doubt of that. Jesus urged us to be prepared in this season of and this occasion, as we celebrate the birth of our Savior, is an excellent place to start that final preparation as we head towards the finish line of this epic 'race'.
Maranatha - soon we will be gathered together in the most epic celebration and reunion that has ever taken place.
As a footnote (well, hardly a 'footnote'), last week my brother and best friend went to Heaven. He is now resting comfortably in the very presence of Jesus Himself and exploring the wonders and glory of that place that Jesus has prepared. I know of no one who wanted to be with Jesus more, and he talked about that glorious day many many times. We assumed it would happen at the time of the rapture, but God had a different plan. As I have told many people, the energy level and laughter in Heaven just went up a notch, as he was a very high energy and gregarious person, who everyone loved to be around. We will miss him very much, but only temporarily, as we take great comfort in looking forward to the epic reunion that is guaranteed to take place - and most likely very soon. We're both looking forward to that a great deal and the wait, whatever length of time it is, will just make the reunion that much sweeter.
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