All His blessed implications

It's a cool, gray, breezy day. Evangeline and Max are napping. I'm sipping coffee and eating a bagel, so you fellow Charlottesvillains can guess which haunt I'm pretending to be at. (My coffee's better but my bagel, of course, isn't.) I'm listening to my favorite contemporary Christmas album, Sara Groves' "O Holy Night".

it's true

kingdoms and crowns

a God who came down

to find you

My friend V introduced me to Sara Groves by saying many times that my sister sounds like her. (She's not a new artist, I'm just shockingly ignorant of contemporary Christian music. There is so much drivel out there that I'm usually too lazy to wade through it for the good stuff.) It's true, although with their respective bands they go in different directions. They both have a tendency to put lyrics and a melody to something I've held in my heart but couldn't for the life of me spit out.

heard it told,

you think it's odd

the whole thing fraught with complications

What a strange tale we proclaim in our carols this time of year. Some know for sure that they don't believe it; others know it as the bedrock of truth.

the play begins with

a baby God

and all His blessed implications

Something is implied by this Birth. It's just the beginning. I almost want to say that God has something up His sleeve, but the middle part of the story is something so painful and wretched--it's no trick. He's not playing.

Isaiah 9

For unto us a Child is born,

unto us a Son is given,

and the government will be upon His shoulder.

And His name will be called

Wonderful,

Counselor,

Mighty God,

Everlasting Father,

Prince of Peace.

Of the increase of His government and peace

there will be no end.

This is no game and no joke, but at this point in the story angels are rejoicing. The next song on the album, a singable retuning of "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear", imagines what they might have said.

O ye beneath life's crushing load

whose forms are bending low

who toil along the climbing way

with painful steps and slow,

That last phrase gave me pause today. I've always thought of it as an emotional metaphor, but this morning, as I was struggling to get creaky, swollen joints moving and straining to carry Eva up the stairs, it gave me comfort.

look now, for glad and golden hours

come swiftly on the wing;

Oh rest beside the weary road

and hear the angels,

and hear them sing

"Peace on the earth,

goodwill to men

from heaven's all gracious King!"