I wish you a Mary Christmas.
Stunned by His reflection.
Flattened at His feet.
As you wait.
Heady with His fragrance.
“Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.” John 12:3 (NIV)
I pray that you would cradle Him in your heart as He cradles you in His.
Not just in this season.
But in every season of each day.
Because He was born to die.
So we could live.
May your heart burst to spill His light and ooze His aroma.
NOTE: This little bird crashed into our window and splatted into a snow angel. Three of us pressed our noses to the glass for several minutes–willing it to blink, to breathe, to move. Not until my husband and Gracee ran outside to its rescue, expecting to scoop it up to bury it, did it shake itself and fly off.
Perhaps a dim reflection through darkened glass may hold some protection. And just the knowledge of a hand stretched out to lift us up is enough to raise us up.
I am flattened by the ways you’ve stretched out
and raised me up during the last several months.