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It is Christmas Eve.

By now my thoughts usually have turned to church tonight, food, wrapping the last few gifts, & cleaning up everything. But this morning I am finding my thoughts elsewhere.

I am thinking about the first time I gave birth. I well remember holding my baby, in the middle of the night. She was swaddled & sleeping. I will never forget the flood of emotions that overtook me. The tears flowed.

She was healthy.

She was here.

Ten toes & ten fingers.

A whole life held on my lap, neatly & tightly wrapped.

So much potential & promise lay in front of me. And that is what scared me to death. What was I thinking when I thought it would be fun to have children? What was I thinking when I thought I would be able to parent & do it well? The weight of the responsibility that was now before me completely bore down on me in the stillness of that first night. The only thing that I could see clearly through my tears was my inexperience & my inadequacies.

All I could whisper & choke out was the short prayer, “Lord, please help me!”

Did Mary feel the same way the night that she held her first born son, swaddled & neatly wrapped in her arms? Did she feel overcome with the sense of responsibility that she would raise the long awaited Messiah? Could she recognize that night all the potential & promise that she held?

I am overwhelmed with this thought…..

Because of the birth of Jesus, my Savior, every promise that was given is fulfilled.

“For no matter how many promises God has made, they are”Yes” in Christ. And so through him the “Amen” is spoken by us to the glory of God.” (2 Corinthians 1:20 NIV)

Yes, may we rejoice that…..

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called…..



Mighty God,

Everlasting Father,

Prince of Peace.”

(Isaiah 9:6 NIV).

It was to us that He was born. It was to us that He was given.

And it was for us.

All for us.