Let me start by saying this: I’m not going to tell you what I got for Christmas.
You’re confused now right?
Last year I wrote about how the true spirit of Christmas is lost among the gifts, the lights, and the food, but somehow I forgot that within 365 days. Last week I found myself wondering what was under the tree and how I could make my life a little more “festive”. Last night I fought with my sister because we told each other we weren’t buying presents (which I stuck to), but she bought me a gift.
I woke up this morning to my sister jumping on me (at 7:18 to be exact!) and within a half hour we were ripping wrapping paper and pulling out our newest clothes, movies, and gadgets. Sure, we took 5 minutes to read the Christmas story from Luke 2 and read a devotional, but within a breath we were already tearing into gifts.
Instead of imagining the hands and feet of God on earth, I was trying on my new shoes. Instead of dwelling on my Savior dwelling in a filthy manger, I was looking at my clean white beanie. Instead of thinking about Mary, a woman that gave birth to the Emmanuel, who was probably in pain and freezing, I was already wearing my new jacket. Instead of listening for the echoes of angels singing to the Lamb of God, I was figuring out how soon I could use my new recording equipment.
Instead of focusing on my Savior, I was completely focused on myself.
But a month old baby girl’s cry brought me back. In fact it brought me to tears.
Almost 7 months ago, my cousin and his wife announced they were having a baby. I had written a song for their wedding and had recorded songs for my family for a gift a couple months back. In late October, I had a conversation with Jenna and she had mentioned that their baby (still not born) got really excited when my songs played. So I knew what I wanted to do.
I was going to write her a lullaby.
A month ago my cousin and his wife welcomed a beautiful baby girl: Kaylee Esther Swope. I was in Boston when she was born, but I got to see her via Skype the day after and instantly fell in love. I held her for the first time on December 7, but was so enraptured by her beauty that I didn’t sing to her.
Today I got my chance.
In the busyness of the morning we got some down time before the rest of the family showed up. It was close to her feeding time so she was getting fussy, but I wanted to hold her no matter what. She started crying as soon as she left the comfort of her daddy’s protective arms. I’m holding her, so in love with a screaming month old baby, when my sister, mom, and grandma start prompting me, “sing to her“.
So I sang a song. Her song. Kaylee’s Lullaby.
And she stopped crying.
As soon as I sang she stopped,
looked straight at me,
and closed her eyes calmly.
And a funny thing happened. As soon as she stopped crying, as a result of my voice, something welled up inside of me. A joy that I have never experienced.
And I cried.
And I cried.
And I cried.
As soon as I got my bearings together and this beautiful miracle given to Ryan, Jenna, and our family fell asleep in my arms, I realized I had just received the best gift in my lifetime.
I can’t stop thinking about that moment.
I think it’s because the two greatest gifts I have ever received came as a result of a tiny babies cry. Today it happened through Kaylee’s fussy, hungry crying, but it really started 2,000 years ago with Jesus’ cry.
My God came to earth. A sinful, messed up, screwed up world. He came in the form of us lowly humans. Us sinful, messed up, screwed up humans. He was a baby, a sinless, divine, but human baby who would grow into a powerful teacher, mentor, and friend. But then he needed to complete his mission.
He came to mend the broken.
He came to heal the bruised.
He came to give sight to the blind.
He came to give words to the mute.
He came to give strength to the weak.
He came to give hope to the hopeless.
He came to give peace to troubled.
He came to seek the lost.
He came to save the sinners.
He came to redeem His children.
He came to die for the unworthy.
I was reminded by a baby girl, just ready for food, of the beauty within a babies cry.
The beauty within the Baby’s cry.