Nothing is more full of pure, undiluted hope than the birth of
a baby. A fresh slate. A new beginning. A life at its genesis,
not yet wounded by the harshness of reality. No mistakes to
regret, no offenses to forgive. Defined only by potential and
How perfect, Lord, that Your Advent took the form
of a newborn baby.
My mind’s eye sees You: tiny, squirming, wrinkled,
held protectively in the arms of Your mother. I look upon
You with wonder that You would come in such vulnerability
and helplessness so I could know the thoughts
of God. The Word, fleshed in a newborn, speaks to me
today of new beginnings and reborn hope.
Surrounded by things that wear out and disappoint,
I forget how “new” feels. I settle for patched up and propped
up, losing sight of new. Relationships, dreams, even faith, if
I am honest—surfaces scarred and chipped by failures and
failings—become so familiar in their shabbiness that I leave
them in their diminished condition, accepting reality.
But today, with my heart gazing on Jesus in the form
of a newborn baby, I remember new. I remember that
the moment in which heaven and earth intersected, the
most holy event in all eternity, found its platform in a
newborn baby. I remember that when You—Most High
God, Creator of heaven and earth—revealed Yourself in
flesh, You proclaimed the possibility that all things could
be new and could be continually renewed. Always new.
“If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation;
old things have passed away, and look, new
things have come.”
—2 Corinthians 5:17
Old things are passed away, all things are made new.
I am forgetting what lies behind and looking forward to
what lies ahead. New, and then new again—that is Your
gift to me today. A fresh slate, a new beginning, outrageous
hope defined only by potential and possibility
From Pursuing the Christ