Vulnerable, born of Mary, laid in a common feeding trough for animals,
and in a dusty/dirty barn God, we don’t understand You. We stand under a mystery and marvel that Your
ways are not our ways; Your truths undo/challenge/create confusion for the gospels
of the world about power, prestige, and always wanting more! Your truths are of being close to the least,
lost, lonely, left behind, and seeking out those beloved on the fringe. You continue to undo economic and political
systems from which we benefit and participate.
Help us, O God, for we cannot help ourselves. In a time when we want to win, we want to see
our opinion become rule; we rarely listen to Your upside-down realm. Open our ears, our hearts, and our lives to a
mystery that needs more than a few weeks in December and an hour one night on
the 24th to explore.
Christmas, that You are with us always, is an invitation that will
reorder our calendars, credit cards, and ways we show up in this world right
now, if we let it. Help us welcome Your
inconvenient, unconditional love to rearrange the stables of our lives now and
throughout the weeks to come. Amen.
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