It might be said that for many adults, Christmas is a time when they look back, with longing, for something that has been lost. They look back to earlier days, to the days of their childhood, when life seemed happier, simpler, and much more innocent. Childhood is a time of magic, a time when the world sparkles with wonder, a time when the Lord and His angels can seem very, very close indeed. In adulthood, though, so much of this can be lost. Life is no longer simple.
Life can seem hard and far from innocent.
And the Lord Himself can seem so very far away. There is a sense in which Christmas holds out to us the promise of recapturing something of the lost wonder of childhood. This story, the story of the Lord Himself, being born as a tiny little baby, is a story of such great power, a story so filled with wonder and with innocence, that we begin to sense once again the wonder of the presence of the Lord. As we read, in the Word, of how God Himself descended to earth and drew nigh to the human race by being born as a human infant, we can almost sense Him drawing closer to us as well. Somehow the Lord can seem closer to us, closer to our hearts and minds, as we read once again the wonderful story of His birth.