Over 2,000 years ago, in a small town, a baby was born. He was placed in a manger, his momma wrapped him in swaddling clothes.
We don't know how long his momma was in labor with him. We don't know how much he weighed, don't know how long he was. We don't know if he had hair or not.
But, a baby nonetheless. This baby they called Jesus, or, Emmanuel. He was the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords'. He was God in the flesh. He came to die, so we might live.
We all know the story.
Last night, at Christmas Eve services, it hit me, really hit me. Christmas Eve services rocked the house. It was fantastic. The reality of it all.
My heart today is full. As I enter into a new year, one faced with uncertainty, with the impending death of my husband, where will I live, how will I live, will my kids be OK, will I be OK, there is one thing for sure.
Jesus loves me just the way I am, Jesus protects me, Jesus surrounds me with His love, even in my darkest hour. He is my salvation.
Happy Birthday, Jesus. I celebrate your birth with joy in my heart.