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And then came that day,
a specific moment in time,
when the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.
The pre-existent Word,
agent of all that ever was created,
unimaginable power and glory,
focussed as a sun’s ray centring through a magnifying glass,
channelled through a girl.
God chose just a girl,
at the time when a daughter’s birth brought sadness.
This girl was ready to listen,
to respond to the promptings of the Spirit.
A girl with an unopened womb,
ready to receive that wonder of creation,
Emmanuel, God with us.
For days and months unseen by human eyes,
yet forming in the image of God.
Known by God even before the moment of conception,
fragile and vulnerable,
yet pulsating with majesty beyond imagination.
And the time came for her to be delivered,
and she brought forth her first born son,
and laid him in a manger.
A manger, for one so great?
How could it be,
this meeting of magnificence and lowliness?
Here was the transformation of accepted standards.
No wonder the angels sang,
the shepherds ran,
and far, far away, wise men saw and understood,
then prepared for the greatest journey of their lives.
As, months later, they looked on that little child,
did they know the wounds of life yet to come,
wounds already foreseen by old Simeon?
Or was it pure glory,
an incandescent meeting between God and humans,
experienced but once,
yet engraven for ever in their hearts?
Did that young mother ponder
as she cradled her son
on the power enfolded there,
a power that had beamed into being
distant stars and galaxies?
How could she comprehend
such greatness concentrated unimaginably,
embodied so lovably?
God with a human face,
a human heart and ever-abiding love,
laying aside the majesty in the emptying of servant hood?