on the incarnation of Him, a Savior!

"Merry Christmas," I say to you, reader.

I think now about the nature of the Incarnation, that God saw fit to manifest His Grace on the world. God did, in all his fullness, in all his mercy, come among us once--beginning in Bethlehem, and on to Nazareth, and on and on until Springboro, Ohio to now as I type, each flick of my finger is drenched in the grace of a God who saw fit to send His Son.

And, I write in the moments beyond Bethlehem with the same hope of Czeslaw Milosz, that the word and the thing will someday become one and I will know that I have defended the great hope of the Incarnation.

"Oh, what a glorious revelation that will be," I say. But, I imagine it won't take the form we anticipate--that LaHaye-Jenkins sort of a trendy apocalypse full of tanks and colorfully woven world-wide governmental organizations. No, what a different form it will be!

Then, we'll really sing--we will liberate our voices from the three-part harmonies of a church service in favor of a cacophony of sound that will deafen our ears and bloody our noses.

A mixing of blood and song.