The Costliest Gift of All

Christmas gifts requires planning in our large family.  Married and multiplying, spread out across the country, a flurry of emails consult spouses and siblings for preferences and the ever-elusive best deal. Gift assignments, cost limits and sales keep things reasonable, affordable. Not so, the gift of Jesus…

Four months of solo Jonathan care has included moments of loneliness, isolation, and on a few occasions, the sting of rejection as I’ve felt people’s avoidance. The ache for eye contact with Jonathan, or  a smile that says “I love you, Mom” never completely goes away. In a low moment of questioning, God dropped the words of the prophet Isaiah into my heart. “He was despised, rejected.” I’ve spent a lifetime avoiding rejection. He signed up for it.

 God the Father sent His only begotten Son, knowing every whispered rumor he’d hear about his paternity. That King Herod would want him dead. That healing the leper and the lame, redeeming the tax collector and prostitute would earn him the wrath of the religious establishment, the Pharisees and Sadducees. That his own family would try to take him away.  (Surely, he’d lost his mind.) That his closest disciples would jockey for position in his Kingdom, then run when the soldiers came. And finally, the crowd that cried “Hosanna” one day would hurl “Crucify Him” at him the next.

So, how?  How did Jesus keep loving us?

Well, of course. He was Jesus.  He could handle it. Nope. He’s not only fully God, but fully man. He felt it. And it hurt.  But that time on the mountain in prayer must have helped. After all, He was Jesus. So he could just connect with His heavenly Father.  Easy. Maybe so, but he had to make an effort. Pull away from the crowds that pressed for more food, more healing, more teaching. At that point, I’d be escaping to a nap.  But in the absolute security of His Father’s love, the other stuff could glance off. He was safe, carried in HIs Father’s arms wherever He took Him.  

I want that.  I’ve been there before, but suddenly I find myself scrambling to throw off everything that’s keeping me back. God forgive my self-pity. My selfishness.  Every grumbling word. I never, ever would have asked for the pain. But I’m grateful that God has allowed me the tiniest taste of what my Savior endured for me.  God sent His gift on Christmas wrapped in swaddling clothes in a manger. But Jesus kept paying the high price. All His life. Pointing me to the Father. Forgiving, loving, through weariness, misunderstanding, sorrow.  All the way to the cross.

Jesus, the costliest gift of all. 

Merry Christmas!