Flying

Flying gives me perspective. As the plane ascends, second by second, the hustle and bustle of city streets begins to go unnoticed and the traffic looks like a parade of ants. The earth and everything on it looks fake, like I could crush it with my foot. We tend to feel so big, so attached and connected to our own small world that we've made for ourselves as we stand with two feet on the ground. But in the air, you grasp how small we really are. From up here everything looks peaceful...everything looks quiet and still. We are like a grain of sand in the grand scheme of things-

-and yet-

He knows us.

And not just knows that we are here, that we exist, but He knows us. And not only that, but He cares. And He LIKES caring. It's funny, as the plane begins to descend, everything below seems to move more quickly again. Objects appear large once more and the chaos sets in. Although we now feel big again, we know we are but small specks here, with our own tiny worlds amongst a billion other tiny worlds. We go from land to sky, sky to land...from feeling big to feeling small, small to big. And still He knows us. He cares and knows us, all the same.

Fully Both.

He weighed most likely an average of 7 or 8 pounds. The straw from his bed poked his newly exposed skin and it was probably a bit itchy. I’m sure the well-known “silent night” wasn’t so silent, as the entrance of a new little one into this world is never a quiet matter. My guess is that he probably fell down and skinned his knee a time or two. He felt the effects of the heat of the sun on his body and sweat dripping from his brow after a long day of work. He knew fatigue and weariness. I picture him seated around a fire with people he loved, enjoying the conversation and the evening breeze that chills the air and relentlessly rolls through the middle of the small gathering of friends.

…if only the breeze knew the essence of the air which it now carried...

There were times when he reached out to others, but ended up being disappointed in the end. He experienced loss and rejection, probably more than we could ever imagine. At times he was so excited to spend the day with others, but he also treasured his alone time. He needed community, but he also needed the quiet tone of the wilderness. This guy loved a good party. I see him dancing until his feet hurt, singing at the top of his lungs, feasting on delicious food and drinks, all the while laughing from the deepest parts of him. But anger wasn’t a foreign emotion, and he, too, felt the passion rising from his belly in the midst of heated circumstances. He was humiliated more than you or I ever will be. He felt the weight of temptation that was trying to crush him. Sadness was heavy at moments, and the feelings that the tears encompassed often seemed unbearable. He knew joy, and he knew the feeling of wanting to flee. He took on physical pain. He understood emotional and spiritual heartache.

But he also knew love like no human on this earth will ever be able to fully grasp in a lifetime.

Because He was love. Love WAS this man. Love IS this man.

Without this holy night, this perfect act of love and devotion, the details of our lives really wouldn’t matter at all. Our feelings would just be weird emotions making us feel distant from our Creator. In reality, they do not separate me from my Father, but instead, they draw me closer in relation to Him, because He understands, relates, and knows.

I’ve heard it….over and over again. But lately, the incarnation has become rhema to me (in other words, the Holy Spirit has caused it to stand out with significant meaning).

Y’all, he was FULLY human. And FULLY God. I know, it’s a crazy thing to try to grasp and I don’t think we ever will here on earth. But if you ask me, that’s probably one of the most comforting and encouraging words of truth that there could ever be.