On a starlit night,
in the company of sheep, cattle,
and a bewildered Joseph,
Mary’s eyes fell upon the face of her
just-born son.
She was bone weary, surely.
In pain, likely.
Ready to place her head on the straw and
sleep the rest of the night away, probably.
But first, Mary had to see this face.
His face.
To wipe the moisture from His mouth
and feel the shape of His chin.
To be the first to whisper,
“So this is what God looks like.”
-Max Lucado
*
O come, all ye faithful, joyful and
triumphant,
O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem.
Come and behold Him, born the King of
angels.
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord.
The United Methodist Hymnal, No. 234
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