So true, isn't it? The older I get, the more joy I find in the small, the seemingly insignificant and little moments of life: the tender hug, the sweet old dog at my feet, the startlingly crimson cardinal, the beloved Christmas carols, the smell of cinnamon and pine, the sound of a loved one's voice, the joy of fellowship, the gift of laughter, the warmth of a fire, the gift of friends, the love of family, the Word fresh from God's heart.
"A shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse, and from his roots a bud shall blossom. The spirit of the LORD shall rest upon him . . ." (Isa.11:1-2).
These words from last night's liturgy have stayed with me during the day. Our salvation comes from something small, tender, and vulnerable, something hardly noticeable. God, who is the Creator of the Universe, comes to us in smallness, weakness, and hiddenness.
I find this a hopeful message. Somehow, I keep expecting loud and impressive events to convince me and others of God's saving power; but over and over again I am reminded that spectacles, power plays, and big events are the ways of the world. Our temptation is to be distracted by them and made blind to the "shoot that shall sprout from the stump."
When I have no eyes for the small signs of God's presence - the smile of a baby, the carefree play of children, the words of encouragement and gestures of love offered by friends - I will always remain tempted to despair.
The small child of Bethlehem, the unknown young man of Nazareth, the rejected preacher, the naked man on the cross, he asks for my full attention. The work of our salvation takes place in the midst of a world that continues to shout, scream, and overwhelm us with its claims and promises. But the promise is hidden in the shoot that sprouts from the stump, a shoot that hardly anyone notices.
The small. The quiet. The simple. The still... yet in each such little moment, we see the heart of our Savior revealed. The One who came as a tiny infant. No room in the palace... or the Inn... but only with the least of the least: the stable animals. No kings to honor Him. No royalty to applaud Him. No officials to recognize Him. No marching bands or fireworks or media or comforts or even conveniences. Save the dirty straw and the smelly stable and the dozing creatures...
And the raptured gaze of heaven witnessing the miracle of Almighty God made flesh-- helpless and little and unrecognized and largely unloved by those He came to save.
Thank You, Lord Jesus, that You came as One so tiny, so seemingly insignificant and unknown. But out of that still, small, humble beginning came the One who would storm the gates of hell and prevail by destroying the power of sin and death.
From the small came the Savior. From the infinitesimal came the Infinite. From the little came the Lord of heaven and earth.
Help us Father not to miss the tiny but glorious gifts You shower upon us every day. Like Nouwen, we will be tempted to despair if we "have no eyes for the small signs of God's presence." But when we see and rejoice in those little moments, we also catch a glimpse of the Infinite Almighty Lord who came to us robed in the tiny, the helpless, and the humble.
Might we rejoice in Him who came in the stillness and the small... our Savior and Redeemer. When we feel insignificant or inadequate, help us to see You, the Infant-Lord, reflected in our small moments and be glad. To God be the glory.
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