the glory // the strangest way

it's Christmas Eve. i will be brief.

but the saga of this swiftly-coming night of holiness has not released its grip upon me.

because i turn on the radio and i hear songs of silent nights and silver bells and the celebration of God become Man.

 this mystery of how a humble virginal child can spread frightened fingers toward Heaven's gates and sing of a delighted soul, how a confused but tender-hearted carpenter can become the earthly father of the Son of the Most High God.

Why me, I'm just a simple man of trade?
Why Him, with all the rulers in the world?
Why here inside this stable filled with hay?
Why her, she's just an ordinary girl?
Now I'm not one to second guess what angels have to say
But this is such a strange way 

to save the world. 

:: strange way to save the world // 4-Him ::

and so

:: i dare you tonight ::

to find the time to hit your knees upon the floor and behold your King, come humble and gentle, come infant and precious. because this was for you. 

do you understand?

He came to die. 

this was His purpose, His highest calling. 

this precious infant curled in the arms of wondering parents while His Father gazed from Home with tears in sacred eyes as Word became flesh. 

behold, your King. 

now i'm not one to second-guess what angels have to say

but this is such a strange way 

to save the world. 

the fifth page :: mystery

{via pinterest}

{to read the first page, visit here}

{to read the second page, visit here}
{to read the third page, visit here}

{to read the fourth page, visit here}

conviction is a powerful thing. it's something that can come out of nowhere, something that you never saw before a hand touched yours and words were whispered, you should look.

today, it took a whimsically tangled ski trip and a sacred blog post to grip my soul and turn my head toward you should look.

it's time to look at ourselves, the sisters and the brothers and the sons and the daughters of the Mighty One. it's time to look at who we were and the mold into which we are squeezing ourselves just because we think we have to fit. have we gotten stuck in the place where sacred gets sidelined, talked about in whispers and not fully understood anymore? 

{via pinterest}

because it feels as though we let it go, and we stopped seeking when we stepped through the church doors. 

we have somehow entered the place where candle-lighters are greeted with wrinkled brows and those who seek the holy are the strange ones who look to hard for "the emotion." because mystery in the Word, not understanding everything that greets our eyes and tugs our souls...

is this wrong?

shouldn't we just know?

we need to step back and breathe and seek. we need to be free to acknowledge that it’s okay to be a mystic, a seeker in this dark world. where candles make your soul ring in the darkness and we invite the Creator to come and create WITH us.

this season is God with us, celebrated and overwhelming with candlelight and silence in the beholding. this here, this is the time where we find ourselves willing to open our door to the fragrant and cast aside the understandable. and for this, i raise shaking hands to broken clouds and whisper, 

come have me, won’t You?

the fourth page :: peace in glory

{via pinterest}

{to read the first page, visit here}

{to read the second page, visit here}
{to read the third page, visit here}

i almost didn't blog today. between packing our suitcases for the yearly family vacation and attempting to get my Christmas-tousled house in order, time for reflection was pushed too far behind. the press and crush of time almost did me in again.

it's a flaw i have, letting time overwhelm and to-do lists dictate my sitting and my standing and my breathing and my living. i forget to stop and rest.

silent night. oh holy night. 

behold your King

for all this crush that spells the mas where it should be Christ, we forget that there was no pomp and circumstance to herald the entrance of Christ, as God and man blended into the mystery of one flesh. 

it was as silent as a birth can be. 

there was no cluster of red carpet admirers, no throngs of people with anxious hearts and fingers stretched out to caress the cheek of this Saviour child. there was a frightened virginal couple, not even a midwife to attend them. there were animals gathered around in the stone shelter where the Prince of Peace was born, with dung and straw and nothing but strips of cloth in which to wrap the Son of the Most High. 

she called Him Emmanuel. God with us. 

{via pinterest}

do you feel this like i do? 

:: God with us ::

:: God with us ::

:: God with us ::

and this woman, this new mother -- even a child herself -- treasured each one of these things deep within her heart. there was silence that flowed purely alongside the angelic chorus of oh, glory, glory, glory. and on earth, peace.

oh, behold your King. 

hail, hail, the Word made flesh.

so we celebrate, and we gather. 

but last night was that moment in this holiday season for me. that moment when our church was silent, save for the flickering of two hundred lit candles in the darkness, and two hundred voices rose to greet this God-made-man. 

oh, come, let us adore Him.

we'll praise Your Name forever.

oh, behold your King.