~ by Ana Lisa de Jong
God came to us.
His journey began as a seed.
The smallest treasure, placed by the mightiest hand
into the secret place of a daughter of Adam,
that we in good time may receive.
God came to us.
The longest journey.
Thousands of years, universes spanned,
waiting for a time ordained from the time of Eve,
to patiently grow from the smallest seed.
God came to us.
On a donkey’s back, in a warm dark womb enveloped.
He came in humility, in vulnerability
and borne by love enacted in obedience,
He was carried to His destiny, to outwork His mighty plan.
God came to us.
And like a giant apple tree,
hewn from the smallest pip He grew,
as a babe in need, in total dependence, in Mary’s womb.
Until it was our time, our turn, to make Him room.
God came to us.
But there was no room.
The inn was full and not one would let Him in.
As though there was a flaw in His mighty plan,
which may be, if not for the rightness of His humble origins.
For God came to us.
Not only as a King, but as a servant.
And only a stable, which opened wide its doors
could serve as the birthplace of a babe,
who was both King and ransom to us all.
God comes to us still.
In the form of gracious, humble, sacrificial love.
In the form of His precious one and only Son.
The gift of Christmas, that has never stopped giving,
since that first wondrous Christmas morn.