Grocery checkers and baristas have posed that question to me in the last few weeks and my response has been either, “I’m always ready for Jesus to arrive,” or “No, actually, we’re not buying gifts this year, just enjoying the company of friends and family,” to which people nod their heads knowingly.
The inquiry is an honest attempt at conversation and connection. We are all in this together, this holiday season. Holy-day season. And that I appreciate.
On a grander scale, though, I’ve been pondering the fact that no one was ready for the first Christmas. At all.
The Jews had been waiting for a Messiah for hundreds of years and were certain He’d arrive in a form they’d recognize.
Then God chooses to reveal the good tidings of great joy to a lowly bunch of shepherds on the outskirts of town. “He’s here! The Messiah! Let me tell you where you’ll find Him.”
Those who were waiting and watching with their eyes on the sky were the ones to whom God came. Of course He came for the rest of us, too. But the message traveled slowly over time. How grateful we are for that message.
He is Emmanuel, the child in a manger come to feed us all.
God, keep our hearts and eyes open to recognize you, our ears open to hear and understand your message. Keep us ready for You.
Plating the Bread of Life
Jody L. Collins
Bed askew with straw, rummaged
leftovers of the menageries’ last meal.
A stone space quarried like the heart of a
small ark, opening just enough
to cradle the straw.
The stall, open planks no match
for the midnight
chill, gaps lasering light,
streaming in on stone.
Mother draped in simple cloth,
teenaged hands trembling as she
lays her infant in the place of the
animals’ meal.
Suckling sounds as He stares, still,
into the sky where the host of Heaven
lift voices through the spheres,
announcing His presentation, which,
as the young father recalls,
would at last be everything.
If you’d like to hear me read this poem, this is for you.
From my ebook “Emmanuel Poems: Verses for the Holidays”
The small ark! Oh, the image of this! Thank you for reading it, Jody - that warms my heart to hear you.
This, O this, especially:
"A stone space quarried like the heart of a
small ark, opening just enough
to cradle the straw."
A gift to me this joyous morn, my friend. Thank you!