My Heart's Desire

It is Christmas Day, and all day I catch myself singing the same words.

I am talking to friends, and my heart is singing. During the serenade of Christmas carols, another song overpowers. I am listening to a sermon, and the words break forth. I am cleaning away the remnants of a bountiful feast, and again this song slips into my heart unnoticed.

At first it puzzles me. Why this song? Why doesn't it vary, why not another?

Then it makes sense. It is Christmas. The day we commemorate the coming of our Saviour to earth. The Creator God, Elohim, Almighty, wrapped in human flesh. Emmanuel, God with us, dwelling among us.

And it is my heart's desire. To know that God. Not as a baby in a manger in history. But in reality, in power, in the present... now.

Let Your Word be born, 

In the manger of my heart. 

Let It burn in me, Let It shine! 

Dwell inside this house of clay 

And mould me every day.

Let Your Word be born, 

In the manger of my heart.

Let it be Christ in me, the hope of glory. Let the Word seed fall on fertile ground, let it be tended well to bring forth the fruit of the Spirit. Let me travail in birth until Christ be formed in me. 

May the Word be made flesh, again, in me.

Even when it hurts and stretches me, let me be pregnant with Christmas, that I may be full of life.

I stop by a roadside stand to buy flowers for a friend. Spending a day on the road, and not with family, I can't help but ask, doing anything special for Christmas today?

No, he responds, Christmas is too painful since I lost both parents in a car accident. I'd rather be outside than inside on days like this.

As I drive onward, I pray, Lord, may he find Your peace this Christmas.

Christmas... a painful time for the reminder of loss...

I know my own sadness and pain Christmas can bring, though not so tragic, and still my prayer is, let the pain bring me nearer to Thee, let it only be growing pains of grace. Let it bring forth Your life within me.

Dwell inside this house of clay

And mould me every day.

Let your Word be born,

In the manger of my heart

Move Him up ... close unto your bosom, and say, "Now, Lord Jesus, I've been a little different, but this Christmas day I realize Who You are now. I once worshipped You as a little Baby in a manger. I seen You back yonder as a little bitty Fellow nineteen hundred years ago, and I thought, 'Oh, if I could've went up to Jerusalem!'" 

But, friends, it's not up there, where He was born, it's right here where He was born; God has brought Him down to every one of us, and His living Being is living in us. Oh, the Creator, the thing that created the world, and created the heavens, created the earth, created man, is right in every individual that's got the baptism of the Holy Ghost today. That's the thing. That's the secret. And He's the Holy Ghost, He's in you; He's the hope of glory.

(Taken from The Deity of Jesus Christ - a sermon I can't imagine Christmas without listening to, and possibly one my favouritist sermons, ever!)

Photos: my Bible, worn and marked and scribbled in, the Word I long to manifest; flowers purchased by man hurting on Christmas from the loss of his parents.