It is complete only when it reaches the heart of man.”
~ Author Unknown
My feet crumple the blankets, still holding some of the warmth from last night. The pillows behind me softly welcome my back, and with keys at my fingertips, I am ready to write. The sky—a solid sheet of winter white—is sprinkling flakes, turning my world into a snow globe. I am rolling a cinnamon mint around in my mouth—its taste of Christmas leads my thoughts to last night…
We piled into the car and drove to the school where we met up with a crowd of people waiting outside the large doors. Little girls were dressed in evening gowns and fur trimmed coats while little boys had their faces washed—except for Nathaniel, who still had a platter of tacos pasted to his chin. Standing in line, I wiped his face with a mitten.
My daughter lowered her head and turned into my coat to whisper, “That boy over there was yelling, ‘Graham is kissing you, Graham is kissing you,’ at recess today.”
“Was he kissing you?” I whispered back, smoothing her hair with my hand.
“Yes,” she answered, and we both looked at Graham who was trying to break-dance in the crowded snow covered walkway. I wasn’t surprised.
Seeing that other mothers were leaving the line-up to bring children to their class, I pulled Graham off the dance floor and followed suit.
The school was warm. The gymnasium was crowded with parents hoping to get front row seats that had long been taken. Walking up and down the aisle, I looked for Michael until I noticed Nathaniel standing tall upon his lap hoping to get a glimpse of the stage.
The ninth-grade art class had decorated the stage under the supervision of their teacher. Being that she is a Christian, she had designed an enormous image of the earth with people of all races holding hands around the circle. The crucifix was centered on the earth.
It would have been an amazing image, had it not been covered with latex paint the day before to remove any trace of Jesus from the program. An image of two hands embracing one another was painted, center stage, concealing the King of kings, Lord of lords, and the very reason we celebrate Christmas.
Listening to the “Christmas” celebration, I wondered where the guest of honor was. Perhaps He had sipped in, uninvited, to see His children worship him, and perhaps His heart was pierced when He saw He wasn’t welcome.
Sitting in my chair, watching the children sing winter songs filled with visions of snowflakes and candy canes, I couldn’t help but ask myself, with wounded heart, Where is He that is born King of the Jews? For I have come to worship Him.
Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judaea in the days
of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the
east to Jerusalem, Saying, “Where is he that is born King
of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east,
and are come to worship him.
~ Matthew 2:1-2
(Drawn from my archives)
You are loved by an almighty God,
Darlene
For comments or questions, contact me at:
darlene[at]darleneschacht.net
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