I am always humbled at this time of year. The God of the Universe chose to become one of us. Who can grasp it; who can comprehend it? Those who claim to know exactly how it happened bother me. I hear nothing but arrogance in their claims. This is a mystery. Perhaps it is THE Mystery. “The Incarnation” is what the theologians call it.

All I can do is pray for the words to shed a little light on my finite mind. Some of those words came to me this morning from a man named A. W. Tozer, who was a pastor and writer of another generation. In one of his devotional thoughts written for this holy season here is what he said:

“The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us…The majesty on high was the baby Jesus once cradled in the manger straw. Taking a body of humiliation, He was still the Creator who made the wood of that manger, made the straw, and was Creator of all the beasts that were there. In truth, He made the little town of Bethlehem and all that it was. He also made the star that lingered over the scene that night.”

Impossible to understand, but too wondrous to ignore. Tonight is a time to bow and to worship. To trust that the story is true and that humanity has hope. All because of this miracle that happened two thousand years ago.

I cling to this like a Marine swept into storm-driven waves and finding driftwood that saves my life.