Prayer for Focus in Spiritual Battles

Prayer for Focus in Spiritual Battles

Psalm 36:5-12; Psalm 38:1-6; Ephesians 6; Hebrews 12:28-29

Father God,

   I come before you in prayer with a grateful

and humbled heart for your marvelous and

unfailing love. Your precious love is far more

vast than my understanding, broader than the

sky above and higher than the mountains; all

encompassing.

You, O God, are righteous and just.

You are good.

You are my shelter and my provider.

You are the light by which I see.

   By your light, you make me able to discern 

the battles that are going on around me in this 

world. Let me recognize the schemes of the evil 

one so I can stand firm against them always 

turning toward you and not fighting as one 

boxing with shadows.

I depend on you, my God, 

for every victory, 

and in every failure, 

you are still my God who loves me.

  Help me to remember this, that I am yours. 

Strengthen me in your love, let your spirit grow 

within me until I am nothing but a reflection 

of you, a bringer of light in this world. May my 

focus be on you and on doing your work to 

your glory.

  Don’t let me be distracted by things that have 

no impact on eternity, by petty arguments or 

disagreements, by bad drivers or angry people, 

by distressing events or even by happy ones. 

  Take my focus away from myself.

  I refuse to believe in the lies of the enemy, 

the falsehood that my needs and desires are 

the most important, most urgent and must 

be fought for. I submit my desires to you. 

Help me to see what truly does matter in this life, 

what is precious and eternal amid all that is shaking 

and condemned to destruction.

  Show me what is worth fighting for. 

Then I will be able to stand firm 

armored in your truth and righteousness 

and peace and salvation and my faith in you 

will protect me from all the lies of this world. 

Your word will destroy every stronghold of deceit.

  I pray this for the men and women 

in my church, that the light of your love 

would guide us to see the reality of the

 world around us—the defeat of the enemy 

and the victory of your plan—and that we 

would walk with one another in love and peace. 

Strengthen us together so we can fight 

side by side, encouraging each other 

with the comfort you have given us 

in our suffering and trials, motivating one another 

to live as your daughters, saved by amazing grace, undefeatable!

  I pray that your church would not be distracted 

by the arrows the enemy is continually launching, 

no matter how fiery, but that our focus would be 

on the foundation, which is Jesus Christ crucified 

and resurrected, his victory over death, 

and his life eternal in which we will join him at the end.

  Make us a beacon of light and hope and love 

that reveals everything else as ephemeral shadows.

Amen.

Kings, Countries, and Christmas

Kings, Countries, and Christmas

It’s coming around to that time of year where everyone turns to thoughts of gift giving and generosity. This isn’t simple coincidence. It is a direct link to the holiday that gives the season its name; a holiday that has in many ways been twisted and perverted by commercialism to gain as much revenue as possible. And yet beneath all the trappings, commercials, decorations, and treats there remains the idea of something strange and amazing happening. There clings to the days a sense of magic and wonder in what would otherwise be considered the bleakest of seasons, and it is this wonder and awe that inspires gifts freely given to family and strangers alike.

The wonder is that Emmanuel came into the world. That the spaceless and timeless God fit himself into a mortal body to live in this place of dirt and famine, wars and intrigue. Many people have quit social media sites because the burden of dealing with other people’s unfiltered opinions and emotions causes to much strain for a health life. And God, who is apart, who is holy, who is perfect, chose to immerse himself in that humankind. He didn’t do it for the amusing qualities of mankind. He did it to save us.

To anyone who has celebrated the advent before or attended Sunday school, this is not new information. In some cases, it may even be a bit tarnished and drab with unimaginative retelling. But that isn’t the point I’m going after here.

My point is that God came into the world to save men from the destruction they wrought with their own hands. Everything we have, from the next heartbeat to the homes we live in and our families are from God. We own nothing. It seems natural then to give away what we have at this time of year, as a sort of offering, and nod in the direction of the one who makes life possible.

And then… what?

Do we go back on December 26^th to protesting immigration, to wishing that the homeless wouldn’t set up their tents in our towns, to spouting caustic opinions about how right we are and how wrong others are?

Deuteronomy 10:18-19 “He [God] executes justice for the orphan and the widow and shows His love for the alien by giving him food and clothing. So show your love for the alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt.”

Unless I’m much mistaken, this verse doesn’t apply to a particular time of year. This is a direction for how to treat people… all the time. But what if we allow people into our country, our city, our lives that don’t believe as we do? What if crime rates go up? What if we have to pay more taxes to support them? What if, what if. There’s no end to the possibilities. And none of them matter because what we have isn’t ours. This country, no matter who runs it or what the economy looks like, isn’t ours any more than Babylon belonged to Daniel or Nebuchadnezzar. Our jobs, our land, our food, our money, our healthcare: they aren’t ours. And until we acknowledge that, Christmas and all its wonder is going to remain inextricably linked to this one season and the rush of holiday shopping; that one day, shared with a man in a red suit; and fit into a neat little box so it can’t effect the rest of our lives and the rest of the world.

“Self-righteous religion is always marked by insensitivity to issues of social justice, while true faith is marked by profound concern for the poor and marginalized” (Keller, 2018, p 61).

Rather than worrying about what we could lose, I would love to see us separate ourselves from the individual mindset so popular in the West and start to think about what others could gain. What if we gave up some of our prejudice and worked with people on the other side who wanted to help people? What if we stopped letting the media or the politicians draw our lines for us? What if we refused to be separated from the work that God gave us?

What if Advent wasn’t just these few weeks in December, but a year-long recognition of the fact that Jesus Christ has in fact arrived and is working here still?

Keller, T. (2018) The Reason for God. New York, New York: Penguin Random House LLC.

Reflections

The year is nearly over.

I sit beside my fireplace with a pot of coffee brewing. The snow gleams outside in the sharp winter air.

This is not Arizona.

The whole landscape of my life has changed, and not just externally.

Last January, about this time, started thinking about going to work in a field hospital in a war zone. That decision led to so many other new and unexpected things that it’s hard to look back and understand exactly what has happened in these twelve months.

More than anything, I think, this year has made me grateful. Grateful for good friends, supportive family and the opportunities with which I have been blessed. Also, for perhaps the very first time in my life, being single has come to feel like that gift that married people always talk about in church. I’ve nothing against married people at church, but they do seem to talk a lot about this subject without much experience…anyway.

Being unattached even feels a little bit selfish at times. For those of you who are single and don’t feel this way, trust me, I understand. I’ve spent most of my adult life without being in a romantic relationship, knowing that I have so much to offer, but with nothing promising on the horizon. I know all about long days of Netflix alone and random wandering through coffee shops in the hopes that you might turn someone’s head—although its unlikely because everyone now has their head buried in laptop and headphones or cellphone. At times, the thought of spending the rest of my life without that “special someone” to remember my birthday, etc. felt like the worst prison sentence in the world. And that whole “it’s a gift from God” idea made me want to hit some people in the face a few times. (I never did)

This year changed all of that for a variety of reasons. Perhaps, some of it comes from simple maturity. Being on the other side of thirty I like to think I’ve gained a little bit of emotional fortitude and stability that was simply unattainable at twenty or twenty-five.

Apart from that, I was able to pick up and leave my job when I heard God call me to go to Iraq. And that being called, so clearly and resolutely, shoved everything else into second place. I was ready to die if that was what was required. I don’t say this to sound somehow holy or righteous, but just to explain that I had a cause, a reason to exist that was entirely outside of myself. Nothing can match that. In my mind, no human being on the planet could be worth missing out on that feeling. All you need is love, the song says. But I think all you really need is to be love. That is what makes life worth living.

Secondly, while I was in Iraq, I saw the toll being a mother takes on a woman. It’s an entire life of selflessness, being held at the mercy, sometimes unwillingly, of a tiny, fretful, fearful human being who doesn’t understand anything except its own needs. Of course I still love babies, and if the opportunity arose, I might gather up the courage to have one myself. But right now, I very much enjoy the fact that I can sleep in on my days off, only have to worry about washing my own clothes, and can choose to eat ice cream and chips for dinner if I like without worrying about setting a bad example. For you mothers, whether your babies are grown or still waking up in the middle of the night, you are amazing. Maybe you have found your calling in raising children, and if you have, then you should understand the amazing feeling of being able to do what you love.

For you single women (and men if you happen to read this), I don’t suggest that you try to pull on your big girl (or boy) boots and just deal like a happy human when you feel alone and forgotten. It’s almost impossible to do. But I do suggest that you first put your focus on God, and second, find something that you love to do. Not because it brings you close to possible mates (see, I have been there—I know how you think), but because you love doing it, because it gives your life meaning and glorifies God. That looks different for everyone. Maybe you clean houses for the elderly or cook meals for the sick or take a frazzled mother of three out for coffee. Whatever it is, find it and run with it until God gives you something else. And He will, because He is good. His plan is perfect, and He loves you.

All of these things, and so many others, made me realize that I like not having roots. I like being able to go where I’m called. It would take a very, very patient and persistent man to keep up with me. (Not to mention put up with all of my weird) I don’t know if such a man exists. I don’t know if he should. All I know is that I am glad to be who I am and where I am.

Next year is nearly here.

I wait eagerly to see what it brings.

~~~

Isaiah 43:4

Because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you

The Best and Worst of Times

How can it be possible to be living in a place where it is so good to be, even while it is so hard to be there?

Here I feel more than ever that I have a purpose. Everything I do is something that may not be done if this hospital were not here. In the US, the system is such that ultimately I both feel (and am) replaceable. There is always someone else to take my place if I am unavailable. Here, I am unique, and my purpose is clear. And that makes this place one of the best things that has ever occurred in the course of my life.

On the other side of things, there is the boy with shrapnel in his brain who isn't going to live, the traumatized child with bilateral amputated legs, the stories of starvation and cruelty that leak out of Mosul like vitriol and eat into my heart even while I try to separate my knowledge from my emotions, so I can still do my job. It is hard to be here, able only to react and sometimes not even able to stop the pain or save the life in front of me. It is hard to care for the bomb-maker and the leering man who is most certainly Daesh, while the child in the next bed over sobs as he speaks about his dead family members. These are the worst things I have ever seen, the worst stories I have heard (on par with the horrors of the Holocaust).

And then there is the question. The one that I knew he was going to ask even before he spoke and wanted to know whether or not the bad things that happen to people are a result of their turning away from God. And if they are not, then why does God allow such things to happen? Not only in reference to Daesh and Nazis and wartime slaughter of human rights, but in reference to natural disasters. Why do they happen at all? Why does God let people die?

This question is not an easy one. And the answer isn't easy either. In fact, without an understanding of God's character, the answer is impossible to take. To begin, one must understand absolutely that God is good, and that God is perfect and just. He is never one without the other. He is a complete and perfect whole. Therefore, if God allows something to happen, or even causes it as is the case in much of the Old Testament, then it must be right for it to happen. To some this might sound horrifically naive, but I can assure you that this is not a simple Sunday school answer, although it would be if you just stopped there and never thought any deeper about it.

Going deeper, I have to look at the facts. First, if God decided tonight to wipe out everyone on the planet with some natural or supernatural disaster, it would be well within his rights to do so. He is the creator of the universe. He is so holy that even looking at his face would kill me. And I am not. I am a sinner, to my core, only clinging to life and hope because of the blood of Jesus Christ. God owes mankind nothing, and he already gave them everything.

Starting in that frame of mind, and with the premise that God is good and just, then I can look at events and see what possible good or justice might come out of such things. Of course, my view is still terribly limited. I cannot see what will happen in three generations because a famine caused this family to move from one country to another, or because persecution caused these Christians to disperse into the surrounding countries, or because this typhoon opened the door for Christian NGO’s to get into this country. Or because the sudden, horrific violence of one religion made thousands of followers realize it was not the true way. But I can extrapolate from what I have seen of God in the past and say that it will all work for God’s ultimate plan, which is the salvation of humanity.

This is the basis of faith, believing without seeing---hoping for what we are sure will come.

Sometimes, I do believe, it is only through the worst of times that the best things in life can be seen for what they are.

Notes from a War Zone

I've spent the last month in an emergency field hospital (EFH) located near the ongoing battle against Daesh (ISIS) in Mosul, Iraq. And, not surprisingly, it's been a difficult month, both in ways I expected but also in ways I did not.

The gore and trauma, for instance, was a given. Otherwise, what would be the point of a flying thousands of miles to a field hospital? And the gunshots and sounds of mortars and explosions in the distance were also fairly routine.

But there were other things that took my by complete surprise, like the sucker-punch attack of self-doubt in the middle of the first few days that made me certain I had been wasting my life up to that moment because everyone around me was so much more exciting and so much more interesting and definitely prettier (for what that matters). Or the boy who I cared for all shift without trouble until I suddenly realized he was the same age as my youngest brother, and I didn't think he was going to make it through the week.

All of these things combined to make this one of the most difficult experiences of my life. And now that I'm leaving it all behind, I feel almost as if I've taken the easy way out since there is still so much work to be done.

Almost daily since the beginning of this trip, I've had to remind myself that God called me to this place. Me. And I followed his voice. And I am enough. I am enough to do the task he has given me, because he has prepared me for it and because his strength continues to fill me. I am never alone.

The other thing to remember is that God is in control. He's in control when the child is miraculously unharmed by the bullet that went through his neck. And he's in control when an eight-year old loses both legs. And he's still in control when a ten-year old dies from wounds sustained while fleeing Mosul with his family.

These are hard lessons to remember. Hard things to live through. Especially when combined with sleep deprivation and the overload of having to learn fifty new names in a day. But leaving is even more difficult.

Here, in the middle of chaos and the unknown, I have felt more at peace with God than I have for years. The difference I can make here is so evident that it's almost tangible.

Going home I have to remind myself that I am not really leaving the war zone. Although there may not be mortars dropping on my hometown or bunkers and barricades and soldiers surrounding my bedroom, my town is no less a war zone than Mosul. Some of the wounds that people sustain here---that we treat in the EFH---are obvious, easily identified, but they carry inside them the exact same brokenness as every single man, woman and child in the USA who doesn't know Christ.

This whole world is a war zone, and the enemy---crafty and clever as he is---uses different tactics on different fronts, but that does not change who he is or his ultimate goal. In Mosul, the enemy uses Daesh to destroy hope and take lives. In America, he is so much more subtle. He uses social media, drugs, pride and even education in an attempt to destroy our ability to believe our only hope of salvation.

I suppose that is why, even when I've seen the children who've been shot by snipers, that I can't feel anger toward Daesh. All I feel for them is sorrow. I truly do not comprehend the kind of brokenness that would lead someone to shoot at women and children. So, please, if you are reading this, take a moment to pray. Pray for Iraq and it's people---the rich and the refugees. Pray for Daesh---that their guns would miss and their souls would be saved. Pray for America and its decadent decay, and pray for those of us who are living in the middle of it all just trying to save a life.

Deep calls to deep at the roar of your waterfalls; all your breakers and your waves have gone over me.

By day the Lord commands his steadfast love, and at night his song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life.

I say to God, my rock: “Why have you forgotten me? Why do I go mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?”

As with a deadly wound in my bones, my adversaries taunt me, while they say to me all the day long, “Where is your God?” 

Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.

Psalm 42:7-11

All the Little Things

On December 19th, I wrote this entry in my journal: "I wish I could have some proof that there was purpose in the waiting, that my life still has importance... I want peace. I want rest. I want to be content in being alone. I have waited and struggled, dear God, and I am tired..."

I'm sharing this because, unfortunately, this is a place I have found myself in periodically over the years. I have come to realize it has nothing to do with my actual circumstances, and everything to do with what I am focusing on.

Here I am, two months later, in such an amazing place that the person who wrote those words could never even imagine what God had stored up for me. I'm heading into a situation that contains so many unknowns that I don't even know what I don't know. And I am perfectly at peace with it. I'm eager even to step forward and jump off the ledge. So I would like to give my future self some advice while I am still clear-headed. Maybe it will speak to you, dear reader, as well.





Dear Future Self,

Every single moment is worth something. Every day is a new layer of growth. This is difficult to understand. Especially for someone like me, who measures so much of my self-worth and value by what I do, the actions and forward motion, the big and shining firework events. But not everything can be fireworks, unless you want to burn out at once. And everything in life, especially the little things, add up to prepare me for the next step, the next mission, but that does not mean there is not a calling in the waiting. It means that sometimes I am called to silence---maybe so I can learn how to listen, or maybe so I can learn not to be shaken by it. Sometimes, I am called to be alone, and that does not mean I am worthless. It doesn't mean I'm not important. All it means is that there is some way I am meant to grow, something I am meant to learn or store up for the next stage.

And, yes, it is painful. And, yes, I know I'm still going to make mistakes. I may even panic at times. But I am not lost. I am only put in this place so I might feel my way toward God, knowing that he isn't very far at all. That feeling, that crawling and searching, is what strengthens my faith if I will let it, building muscle and reason because I know my hope is not in vain.

So next time a waiting period comes around, dear silly self, remember this: Love in the moment. Love who is placed in front of you and beside you to the best of your ability without expectation. Live for eternity. Don't focus on the temporal circumstances unless it is with gratitude. And listen in the waiting. The call of God is for everyone, but only those who are listening can hear it and respond, "Here, I am. Send me."

And I heard the voice of the Lord saying,

"Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?"

Then I said,

"Here I am! Send me."

Isaiah 6:8

Lures

The world lies. This is not something new. It has been lying almost since its creation. It shimmers with promises of diamonds, freedom, acceptance, and what we actually find is only the glitter of broken glass, chains and guilt.

The problem with the lies the world tells is that they are not always immediately apparent as lies. Some of them are so coated in glitter and shine that they seem almost right. A lie never appears as empty or damaging or painful as it actually is.

And, taken in reverse, the truth never appears as good as it actually is. It appears harsh and unyielding. Although, the truth promises everything, it requires such a large sacrifice on the face of it, that many people turn away because they are not willing to try for a wealth of reasons including the fear of failure. What they don't realize is that the lie requires an even bigger sacrifice, it just doesn't say it outright.

As an example, let's say we have two masters (or presidents,or kings...whichever you like). One requires that all of his servants follow his laws absolutely. And they are very strict laws---laws that are, in fact, impossible to keep. To those who follow his laws, he gives every good and perfect thing that they need, but as I said, no one can truly keep his laws.

The second master also requires that his servants follow his laws, but his laws are much more in line with human natures, and therefore much easier to follow. He promises wealth and fame and comfort, and most importantly, he allows his servants to do whatever they like, to create their own little worlds of truth as it were.

Everyone, whether they like it or not, is a servant to one of these masters, a citizen of one of these countries. And if the story ended here, as I am very much afraid it does in many people's minds, it would be clear which master would be the better to serve.

However, it goes on. The first master, realizing that humans could never live up to his laws, sent his own son, to obey the law completely and remove the weight of it from his servants by his own death. To serve such a master---who would die for his people out of love for them---changes the nature of the service entirely. And that is the not-so-hidden fountain of life at the center of the truth.

The truth fulfills promises beyond what we can even begin to imagine.

The second master also has a hidden truth. Those who serve him will soon find that he has betrayed them. The wealth and power fade. And beneath the sugar-coating is the hook, that twisting damage that settles deep into the hearts of his servants. It is no wonder then, that they are so bitter towards those who are free. A fish writhing at the end of the hook doesn't know how to free itself, and neither do they.

We would all do well to remember this when we are speaking with those who are caught in the hook of lies. It is not a pleasant place to be, no matter how much they insist that they are pleased to stay there. And it may be more painful for them to get off the hook than it was to swallow it in the first place.

While I always advocate the use of critical thinking and reason paired with faith, reason may not be much use at this time. As with an injured animal, pain and fear tend to overwhelm such things. Panic certainly does. That only thing that can be of any use in these times is the calm, consistent use of love. Gentle words. Kind actions. No matter what is going on around us, or what those who are injured and flailing do to us. Those that are caught by lies are not to be hated, or despised, or ridiculed.

We cannot let ourselves fall victim to the lies. Because the truth is that every one of us has our hooks buried deep. Every one of us has believed a sugar-coated lie. Every one of us needs to be saved from our own mistakes.

Yes, they are making bad choices. Yes, they are hurting innocent people. But fighting them in anger will never get them free. It will only make the hook sink deeper. We must be just as concerned for them as we are for the people they are hurting.

Freeing Truth

In a world where so much information is readily to hand, misinformation abounds, and truth, while made more accessible in some ways, is also obscured by an abundance of thinly shrouded lies.

These lies come in a variety of forms, from the fashionable to the radical. In short, there is a lie out there for everyone. One that will perfectly fit what you think you need. And if you later decide that it wasn't right, you can always change it for another perfect fit.

This makes finding the truth not only difficult, but uncomfortable as well. The truth does not change so easily. It doesn't conform. Rather than changing itself, it changes you.

The truth does this in a variety of ways, but the first, I think, is by making you lift your head and look outside yourself. As humans with a limited conscious, our entire world is often in our own mind. Every emotion, regret, hope, dream, even every sense, is entirely our own and can only be expressed with a certain degree of error to anyone else. This makes it easy to retreat into ourselves and find the most convenient and comfortable lie.

However, if we take a moment to look outside ourselves, even to peep through the keyhole, as it were, our entire point of view can change. Once we begin to go farther, to put ourselves in other people's places, to realize their needs, to see their fears and joys and failures as we would see our own, it becomes more difficult to retreat into a lie that only serves to make you comfortable.

Of course, caring for people is not the whole truth, although it is an important part of it. As anyone who has ever cared about another person for a long-time could tell you, people are not easy to love. We are all selfish to a degree, all guarded, and we are very good at expressing hurt by hurting someone else in return.

So the truth must go farther or we only end right back where we started, locked safely inside our own heads.

The question is, how does the truth go about making you look outside yourself to begin? What could possibly entice us out of our selves and our nest of warm and cozy lies into a world of sometimes bitter pain and discomfort?

To say that the truth is love, while completely honest, also sounds a bit of a cliché. So to avoid that, I'll go with another aspect of it and say that the truth is rescue. It is a rescue from the stagnation and bitterness of a life spent lived in such a tiny space as a single mind. It is a rescue, in fact, from yourself. Our selves are fully as needy as other people, and left on to itself a mind is perfectly capable of destroying its owner with anxiety, depression, suspicion and self-pity. All the cares of this life, when mulled upon, create a thick haze that leaves us confused about how to get out again.

The truth is that we have no need to care for ourselves or worry about the future, because we are already being cared for. We do not need to jealously guard our own interests, because they are already safe and sealed in a place no one else can ever cause them harm--assuming we have the good sense to let them alone and not destroy them ourselves. Rather than asking, "What can I get?", "How can I make them like me?", or "How can I make myself happy?", we can begin to ask, "What can I give?" and "How can I make them happy?", which are far better questions to be asking.

When we begin to ask those questions, the truth that caused our salvation starts to leak out in obvious ways and can save other people as well. This does require discomfort at times, a stepping outside our boundaries and certainties, a risk of being hurt--if only temporarily--but remember we have nothing to lose except the prison of our own minds.

There is only one truth that can do all this. Only one truth that does not require further action on your part. Only one truth that imparts grace and mercy, where others offer only endless works and condemnation.

The truth is that Jesus Christ died to take us out of ourselves, to release us from the chains of our sin and worry that held us bound so closely to our own lives and minds. He gave us freedom, and it would be a shame to waste it by closing the doors tight and refusing to budge.

"And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free." 

John 8:32 

"For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age." 

Titus 2:11-12 

Stories and Storytellers

In all stories, we are told by our high school and college writing professors, there must be a core element of truth. You can only expect the reader to suspend reality for so long before they lose interest if the story becomes unreliable. This means that although you can have unlikely devices and twisted plot lines and magic and zombies, the characters who use such devices, traverse the plot lines and defeat magic-zombies must always act in a way that is realistic. In other words, in a way that we as people who have been studying the way other people react all of our lives will find believable. So a man who has never in his life forgiven anyone for a slight cannot suddenly forgive some young woman just because it helps a romance along. There must be a catalyst, a force of change, something that is believable because it holds to reality.

To switch tracks a bit, let’s assume you are a person living during the height of the Roman Empire. In this time period, it was not unreasonable to assume that a god or goddess might step down to earth and dally with humans. This is primarily because said gods and goddesses had extremely human traits, quarrels and jealousies. They were, in fact, little more than immortal humans. And they were born of stories created by human minds, following the very important laws of storytelling to make them believable and relatable.

However, if you are talking about God, and not gods—if you were Jewish (which you most likely were if you were a monotheist in those days) the assumption that God would come down and live among men was another proposition entirely. We are talking about God here—the one who laid the stars in place and spread out the oceans, who stores thunder and lightning and fights in pillars of fire. He held all of the supposed power of the Olympians combined and even more.

King Solomon the wisest man who ever lived did not believe that it was possible. He said, “But will God indeed live on earth with man? Even heaven, the highest heaven cannot contain you, much less this temple I have built.” (2 Chron. 6:18)

So when we tell the story of God coming down to earth we must see that it is not a story that a human mind, who understood the vast power of God, could imagine telling. It doesn’t hold to reality. It is not expected. It isn’t simply a plot twist, it is a twist of the very fabric of the world—this thought that God could consent to be a companion of men, to put on flesh and blood and time itself—the God who created TIME, submitting himself in so many ways to his own creation. It is fantastic and unearthly.

This is not a story that anyone who believed in the one, true God would dare to create on his own. It’s too impossible.

Truth became infinitely stranger than fiction on the day Jesus was born.

And yet, it isn’t strange at all if you consider that God loves humans. Because love is a catalyst, a game-changer. Love explains deeds that would otherwise appear irrational (and perhaps sometimes they still are). God proved his love by sending his son, and up until that point it was not something that man could comprehend—God’s love. Now it is. He put it into context for us. He told a story that we with our limited human understanding could never create on our own, but one that we could believe.

“…One will come from you to be rule over Israel for Me,

His origin is from antiquity, from eternity.” (Micah 5:2)