I guess I could tie this back to Herod, the ultimate Christmas bad guy. But he never toppled from his best intentions - his intentions were never that good. If a Bethlehem shepherd was
at the Crucifixion, maybe. When they left the manger, "they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child." (Luke 2:17) But that's not really the same thing thirty three years and a lifetime later.
What I really see in my Christmas story, and my Easter one, too. I see my resolve shattered by fear in the blink of an eye. I hear the words resounding in my head, the ones I should say but don't. I feel my feet moved to action as I sit idly by. And I feel, with grateful shame, the grace of my Savior: "And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers." (Luke 22:32b)
The gift I really need.
Merry Christmas!
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