“For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”
A few days ago I was contemplating the names and titles of Jesus, wanting to see something specific that really resonated with me this Christmas season – something that would strike me right now, right where I am. For some reason, though, as I focused on each one, it felt like I was trying to force something to fit that just wouldn’t click.
I kept getting drawn back to one detail. Something that wouldn’t allow me to fully focus on anything else. It was the first line of Isaiah 9:6, “For to us a child is born.” It wasn’t the names that captured my attention – it was the baby.
The humility, the wonder of the mystery – that God became a small, helpless child. A baby who contained the radiance of God’s glory and the imprint of His nature, and in whose blood flowed the power to save the nations and to cleanse each of us from all unrighteousness.
This is it. This is what is resonating for me, what I’m seeing with new depth and clarity. Not the huge things, but a small One. A babe, wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. A baby whose name is the only One by which any of us can be saved – and who would one day lay down His life to draw all people to Himself. The hope of the whole world, held gently in His mother’s arms.