The Gift

I remember from many years ago a Christmas door-decorating contest that we held at Worthington Christian. When I came in one morning the young lady who was decorating the door to my room, had covered it with brown paper bags, bits of old cloth, and dried grass. No sparkle. No tinsel. No brightly colored paper. Indeed. That's how He came, was it not? Simply. In poverty. Humbly. Oh, the angels couldn't contain themselves and burst into song in a field, but they were, no doubt, quite a distance from the hay-filled manger where a little child was born, wrapped in cloth, son of a poor laborer and his young wife. And they sang their oratorio to the poorest of the poor--society's outcasts. And, yes, a couple years later, He would receive gifts--the funds necessary to live awhile in Egypt. (I'll bet I know when they ran out of funds.) But He didn't come to receive gifts. He was the Gift. "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son." May we in this season--and all year round--wrap ourselves in humility, content with what we have. And what do we have? The Gift of the Son--Christ in us, the hope of glory. The riches of His grace.