Look at the birds! They don’t worry about what to eat–they don’t need to sow or reap or store up food–for your heavenly Father feeds them. And you are far more valuable to him than they are.
Let’s talk about poo. Yep! That’s what I said….poo. Jesus, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, was born in a manger, stable, barn, cave….whatever you want to call it. He was born in the midst of poo. By our culture’s standards, not a very royal entrance for such a King. No red carpet, extravagant clothing, limousines, preening and strutting for interviews, plastic smiles or adoring shout outs. Just critters and poo.
Here is Ann Voskamp’s description…
“…the Son is sent in through the fallen kingdom’s back door, the King is born into a barn, to wrest the forces from the pit, slay the demons, and woo the world back to life. The war is bloody. It is heinously dark. And on Calvary, evil corners the Son. Iron spikes the King to a Tree and laughs haunting triumph–only to have light shatter the dark and the King fling off the rotting grave clothes and rise.”
Advent, for me, is becoming this tingling, expectant, quiet waiting that celebrates birth and death and resurrection and second comings.