We belong in the center of God's bigger-than-us, completely free and un-controlling love this season.
Any claim of love without the sacrifice of vulnerability--the possibility of pain and sense of reality--would be hollow and suspect, but God's love is so open hearted, so available. He is the love that is tangible and steadfastly generous when everything else in our life fails and especially when we are broken. We can be real with God's love. He has accepted us to the absolute end of all our emotions and all of our choices.
"The child born in the night among beasts. The sweet breath and steaming dung of beasts. And nothing is ever the same again.
Those who believe in God can never in a way be sure of him again. Once they have seen him in a stable, they can never be sure where he will appear or to what lengths he will go or to what ludicrous depths of self-humiliation he will descend in his wild pursuit of man...For those who believe in God, it means, this birth, that God himself is never safe from us, and maybe that is the dark side of Christmas, the terror of the silence. He comes in such a way that we can always turn him down, as we could crack the baby's skull like an eggshell or nail him up when he gets too big for that." --Kierkegaard
"Ironically, while the emptying involved much humiliation, it also involved a kind of freedom. I have spoken of the "disadvantages" of infinity. A physical body freed Christ to act on a human scale, without those "disadvantages." He could say what he wanted without his voice blasting the treetops. He could express anger by calling King Herod a fox or by reaching for a bullwhip in the temple, rather than shaking the earth with his stormy presence. And he could talk to anyone--a prostitute, a blind man, a widow, a leper--without having first to announce, "Fear not!"--Yancey