If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have picked a place that smelled like donkey—
but then again, God chooses to make beautiful things
out of stuff like dust, and wet nose-breath.
Personally, I like to imagine that there were velvet-nosed cattle, lowing a lullaby;
Stars dazzling a midnight-blue sky;
a sleeping, baby, white guy.
But, thankfully!, God is bigger, and better, and bolder, beyond anything
That I can comprehend with my own particular culture, and image, and mind.
God has a way of illuminating what I see as the stagnant, smelly, unwanted places—
and turning them into pools of healing and rivers of life:
into leaves for the healing of the nations.
With God’s mud on my eyes, I am allowed the clarity see created things as they always were meant to be seen— and not what I just couldn’t see them as, before.
Maybe it did involve rough blankets, and callous hands, and flies buzzing around and landing on a blanket mid-swaddle. But, all of it’s beautiful—
in the context of God.
Hope has been born. And now,
All of creation will be held together.
What could be more worthy, more beautiful, more perfectly perfect than that?
This, overwhelmingly, is God’s way: it is a springing forth, a pouring out, a blazing into new life.
it sweeps away the cobwebs and danglies of the old, dead soul, and cries, “Light em’ up!”
as green bursts from the earth in a sweaty tangle of love.
Can you imagine how fresh, and how free,
the soul was on that night God when came in person—
all straw, and placenta, and dust from here to Bethlehem?