I sat in the front row at Friendly Street Church of God, right in front of the empty manger, when I had a vision of Jesus dying on the cross, and my little girl heart was grieved.
I knew baby Jesus would be born on Christmas, and that there would be lots of new toys with food and fun for my family.
But this year I didn’t want Jesus to come. “Don’t you know what they’ll do to you?” I looked at the artwork above the choir loft as though looking right into his grown-up, suffering face. Tears rolled down my cheeks.
I knew the pattern. This Jesus, whom I adored, would be rejected, tortured and killed by an angry mob. This Jesus, who spoke kindly to everyone, taught us God’s ways, and healed people’s hurts. He hated no one, but reprimanded those who did wrong so they could change directions.
I did not want him to be killed, even though I had known from a young age that I needed Jesus to come and to willingly die for my sins.
“Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins” (Matthew 1:20-21 ESV).
Lord, you knew where your birth would lead you, and you came anyway. I am sorry it cost you so much, and yet, I know I would not make it without your sacrifice. May you receive the joyful reward you gave your life for, dear Lord. Here is my heart, my gift to you.
by Kathy Sheldon Davis