By: Abby Randolph
My Dear Friend,
Merry Christmas! I hope that, wherever I find you right now, you are well.
Currently, I’m sitting in my room under my blanket and a cup of tea that long ago turned cold sits next to me. I’ve spent a long time staring at this page in prayer, asking the Lord what He wants me to say to you.
In my life recently I’ve felt so little. (It doesn’t help that I’m 5’2”.) But more than physically little, I’ve felt spiritually little. I can’t quite describe the feeling to you, but it's one I’m not shy to. The feelings of weakness and helplessness are also felt deeply in my littleness. It’s hard in a world of “being big” and self-reliant to feel little and weak and, well, broken.
But as I’ve been praying and meditating on Jesus’ birth, I’m realizing that maybe this littleness I’m feeling isn’t such a bad thing.
In the song Winter Snow, by Audrey Assad, she sings:
[You] could’ve come like a mighty storm
With all the strength of a hurricane
You could’ve come like a forest fire
With the power of Heaven in Your flame
But you came like a winter snow
Quiet and soft and slow
Falling from the sky in the night
To the earth below
Jesus was born in a cave. There were animals that smelled and only scratchy, prickly hay to lie on. His Mother had no one but Joseph to attend her in the birth of our Savior. It was cold and unnoticed and LITTLE.
Jesus is God. He could have come as a grown man, on a mighty horse, waving a banner. He could have come riding on a lightning bolt in the middle of a storm. He could have been born a king in a palace with warm blankets and a bed. At the very least, He could have been born in a house.
But He didn’t.
Jesus chose to come little. A little baby. A little stable. With very little notice. Jesus came for the little. In fact, his first visitors were shepherds who had nothing to give but themselves.
He came little to give you permission to be little.
Jesus is calling to you and me: “Come! Come in your littleness! Come in your weakness and brokenness and shame. Come and bring everything you are, your best and your worst; what you’re proud of and everything you’re afraid to let anyone else see. Come as you are!”
Dear friend, I challenge you to bring your littleness to the manger this Christmas season. Let our big God who chose to come little meet you there and love you. Let Him be your strength. Let Him be big for you. There, by the manger, may you find peace and joy and strength.
With love, Abby