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B is for As a Baby

I was reading the introduction to the book of Philippians from what is called “The Student Bible”. And in part of it, the writer said this – “during the Christmas season we celebrate the grand night God visited the earth as a baby. But to the rest of the universe, the event looked like an astounding humiliation. God, the Creator of all, took on the unimpressive body of a human being to endure a confining life and grisly death on planet earth.” As I read that, something struck me like never before. Imagine in the dead of the night, all the spirits, all the “gods”, all the strong supernatural forces standing on earth wherever they are. Looking up at the sky. Or looking across to the manger scene. Some of them, fold their hands in disgust – why would a God Son come here… like that? like one of them? Some of them watch – almost hyperventilating – I wonder what God is up to? What is this about? Some of them, having watched the fanfare of the angels probably thought – yeah but… a baby? You know all this time, I think about the Christmas story and I try to see/find a new perspective on things but this… this makes me wish I could draw so I could show you what I see/what I feel. So instead, I quickly took up my laptop and wrote a piece of poetry simply called – As a Baby.

The spirits,
The strongholds,
The principalities…

The angels,
The demons
They all saw it…
All knew something of it.
Today was the day, that the God Son came down wasn’t it?
So they watched and they listened.

Some with bated breath, some with smug humiliation
As the good son
No. The God Son stepped down from eternity
To come here as a baby.

A baby?
The humiliation of wearing this human flesh
What was He thinking coming down to this putrid mess?
What? What? WHAT! Was the point of this lowly action?
Who was He trying to save? Who was supposed to get this satisfaction?

The night was calm
But they weren’t.
All the powers who claimed to be gods trembled
Because the good son.
No. The God Son stepped down from eternity
To come here as a baby.

A baby?
Oh! What power to BABIES have?
What. What inheritance do the humans deserve?
What makes their limited lives worth something to preserve?
Can they walk on water? Control they thoughts of many?
What makes these dusts so important, that He’d come here as a baby?

So fragile. So pure.
Hands cradle the Creator?
While dirty animal types draw near to a manger?


Impossible for angels and demons
Spirits and strongholds to understand
That to save mankind, the Creator had to be just a man.

Yeah, but a baby?
A baby?!
Is this what our eyes truly see?

God works in mysterious ways, His wonders to perform.
And so they wondered and they wondered
What work; what miraculous work this baby would perform.

© 14:10:09

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