And the Word was made flesh

and pitched His tent among us.



Everytime I say these words I get such a thrill. It's almost too much to fathom. Imagine, God, almighty, infinite Lord, comes down to live with us, His ungrateful creatures. He comes, not to Rome but to crappy little Bethlehem. He lives in Nazareth for 30 years. He works as a carpenter-- no soft white hands for Him. He spends three years preaching and is rejected by the priests and pharisees, the very ones who should have recognized Him first. He is crucified, dies and rises again for love of us. The wood of the cross and the wood of His cradle are related.

And the Word was made flesh and pitched His tent among us. What else can I say but "thank you, Lord," and that with tears in my eyes.

For your listening pleasure.