Queen Lily she is resting
Underneath her frozen bed
While sister Iris covered in snow
Shakes her sleepy head
The daffodils start snoring
While the tulips pray for Spring
And Rose patiently puts on her robe of ice
Till the robin flies home on May’s wings
And the Father of Gardens smiles lovingly down
Through this season of quiet and cold
As we gently wait through our Winter
Till His bloom time comes round for our souls
And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshiped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense and myrrh. Matthew 2:11 KJV
At Fort Knox in Kentucky the U.S. government stores over 9 million pounds of gold bullion. As you can imagine this is one of the most secure facilities anywhere on the planet. That gold has been there for over 90 years. Nothing more has gone in and nothing has been taken out. That is the way things are with the treasures of this life. They are kept under lock and key and rarely used. But at the birth of Jesus Christ things changed if only for one night. Men who had saved up immense riches risked everything to bring them to Bethlehem.
They risked their lives on the dangerous and difficult journey from their far homeland. They willingly risked the wrath of King Herod whose soldiers were standing by ready to descend onto the helpless village. But nothing of their treasure, nothing of their comfort or safety mattered to them on that evening. All they could see was the star they had followed standing over the place and the opened their treasures and worshiped Him!
And this shall be a sign unto you: Ye shall find the Babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. Luke 2:12 KJV
Try to imagine how the shepherds reacted after hearing the angel’s message, then being astonished at a crowd of more angels suddenly appearing in song. Can you picture with me sandaled feet eagerly tripping over rocks and roots along the dark pathway leading down into the village? Can you hear them eagerly urging one another on as they rush towards the stable filled with animals, hay and one small child?
And how will we come? Will we shower and shave, then carefully pick out our finest new clothes for the church service? Will we slowly decide which tie best fits the mood for Christmas? Have we shined our shoes and carefully combed our hair? Where is the desperate flight towards the place of Jesus? Where is the longing to see if it is just as the angel said? How are we to come to the manger this year? Will it be just another soft sleek and memorable Christmas or will we join the earnest footsteps of the shepherds thundering down the trail to the manger. If we were to come in all our regal best would we even recognize Him, the very Son of the Highest lying quietly among cows and sheep and wrapped in swaddling cloths?
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