All words fail us whenever we try to describe the Almighty, Omnipotent, Holy God, as he makes his unheralded entrance into the world, on a tiny bed of hay, wrapped in the skin of tiny baby.
Who can fathom it? Within the lowly manger of sticks and straw lies a most holy child. This infant wrapped in swaddling clothes is the very architect of the universe! The creator of all heaven and earth, the Great I Am, of whom there is no other. This is the one who:
Laid the foundations of the earth and adorned himself with glory and splendor.
Tells the sun and moon, when to rise and when to set.
Unleashes his lightning, and tips over the water jars of heaven.
Provides food for the ravens, and brings forth the constellations in their seasons
Commands the seas “This far you may come and no farther.”
Cuts a channel for the torrents of rain, and father’s the drops of dew.
Holds the storehouses of snow and hail, and gives birth to the frost.
Thunders against all injustice’s
Gently weaves the intrecit design of an embryo while in its’ mothers womb.
Gives strength to the horse and clothes it’s neck with a flowing mane.
Orders the morning forth, showing dawn its place.
Comprehends the vast expanses of the earth and walks in the recesses of the deep.
Notices when even a sparrow falls to the ground.
This is the child that lies so quietly, so magnificently on a bed of hay. Only a few discern the silent arrival of our King. The moment is a holy one… and truly is