What Man Dared not Dream

Santa.
The culmination of what we need in a hero.
The fulfillment of our desires.
And … the betrayal of our meager expectations.

What? you say.
Let me explain. You see, Santa can't provide what we really need. For one thing, he's only around once a year. When December's requests become February payments, Santa's left the mall. And should July find us ill or October find us alone we can't go to his chair for comfort-it's still empty.

You'd think we could do better. You'd think that over six centuries we'd develop a hero who'd resolve those fears. But we can't. We give it the best we can, every benefit of every doubt, every supernatural strength, and, for a brief shining moment we have the hero we need-the king who can deliver Camelot. But then the truth leaks and fact surfaces amidst the fiction and the chinks in the armor are seen.

And we realize that the heroes, as noble as they may have been, as courageous as they were, were conceived in the same stained society as you and I.

Except one.

There was one who claimed to come from a different place.

Those who saw him-really saw him-knew there was something different.
At his touch blind beggars saw.
At his embrace empty lives filled with vision.
During his final week he summarized his claims with one question.
Speaking of himself he asked his disciples, “What do you think about the Christ? Whose son is he?” (Matthew 22:42)
It's the ultimate question of the Christ: Whose son is he?
Is he the son of God or the sum of our dreams?
Is he the force of creation or a figment of our imagination?
When we ask that question about Santa, the answer is the culmination of our desires.
A depiction of our fondest dreams.
Not so when we ask it about Jesus.
For no one could ever dream a person as incredible as he is.
The idea that a virgin would be selected by God to bear himself ….
The notion that God would don a scalp and toes and two eyes ….
It's too incredible.
Too revolutionary.

We would never create such a Savior.
We aren't that daring.
But God did what we wouldn't dare dream.
He did what we couldn't imagine.
He became a man so we could trust him.
He became a sacrifice so we could know him.
And he defeated death so we could follow him.

from And the Angels Were Silent, Copyright 2004 Max Lucado

Just a Moment

It all happened in a moment, a most remarkable moment.
As moments go, that one appeared no different than any other.
But in reality, that particular moment was like none other.

For through that segment of time a spectacular thing occurred.

God became a man.

While the creatures of earth walked unaware, Divinity arrived.
Heaven opened herself and placed her most precious one in a human womb.
God as a fetus.
Holiness sleeping in a womb.
The creator of life being created.God was given eyebrows, elbows, two kidneys, and a spleen.
He stretched against the walls and floated in the amniotic fluids of his mother.

God had come near.
He came, not as a flash of light or as an unapproachable conqueror, but as one whose first cries were heard by a peasant girl and a sleepy carpenter.

The hands that first held him were unmanicured, calloused, and dirty.No silk. No ivory. No hype.Were it not for the shepherds, there would have been no reception. And were it not for a group of star-gazers, there would have been no gifts.To think of Jesus in such a light is-well, it seems almost irreverent, doesn't it? It's not something we like to do; it's uncomfortable. It is much easier to keep the humanity out of the incarnation. Clean the manure from around the manger. Wipe the sweat out of his eyes. Pretend he never snored or blew his nose or hit his thumb with a hammer.

But don't do it.
For heaven's sake, don't.
Let him be as human as he intended to be.
Let him into the mire and muck of our world.
For only if we let him in can he pull us out.

from God Came Near
Copyright 2004 Max Lucado

Come Thirsty

We were not meant to live with dehydrated hearts... come and learn how to quench your soul.

Are you a dry sponge?
Edgy and rigid?
Ineffective?
Would you like to be softened up some?
Would you like to be more useful in the hands of the One who made you?

Then come to the well.Scientists assure us that humans can’t live without water, and we don’t even attempt it.

But survival without God?
Oh, we sip, we taste, but we’re prone to go extended times without a good drink from the well of the Lord. And we pay the price for doing so. We shrink. We coil and re-coil against the world... organs harden... hearts harden.Come to the cross and know that your sins are pardoned and your death is defeated. Receive Christ's energy and believe that you can do all things through the one who gives you strength.

Receive his Lordship, knowing that you belong to him and that He looks out for you. Receive his love and feel confident that nothing can separate you from it.Come, to the WELL... to Christ's Work on the cross, his energy, his Lordship and his Love.

Originally printed in Come Thirsty, dy Max Lucado