But then I remember it was for failures that Christ graced a waiting manger. It was for failures that He breathed His last earthly breath as He hung in disgrace on a wooden cross.
It was to a failure, one who penned the precious psalms that touch our hearts in time of need. And, yet, as a man after God’s own heart, sinned and ripped apart his fellowship with the Lord, then repented and repaired it.
It was to a failure, one who had denied Christ three times, that the command of “feed My sheep” was given.
It was to a failure that Jesus gave His first greeting in the Garden of Gethsemane on that initial Easter morn.
It was to a failure who had been the foremost despiser of believers yet became one of the greatest servants of the Gospel, the Lord blessing his ministry and his writings for all time.
I think, no, I know my greatest failure is in closing the inn-door of my heart, telling the Christ-child there is no room to live in my heart, in my circumstances, in every moment of my life.
But He came…
…amid a firmament full of celestial singers and the cries of an infant. And in the lowly stable, Mary lovingly swaddled the future Sacrifice of the world; her gentleness contrasted with the roughness of the hand-hewn trough in which she placed the tiny Child.
There, the miracle of the manger took place: the empty manger, the harbinger of a destined, wooden cross cradling the tiny body of mankind’s salvation, became full – full of love, full of expectation, full of holiness, and full of humanity.
He came, confined by the boundaries of time and limitations of a physical body.
For failures, He came. For me, He came. For you, He came.
But where does He go to be cradled today? In the manger-hearts of believers.
Is the rough manger of your heart cradling the Babe of salvation?
God still seeks His mangers…hearts willing to hold Him. For this…