He is here

Our baby Jesus is missing.

We’ve found everything else.  The lights, the stable, Mary and Joseph.

But baby Jesus is missing.

As I’ve looked for Him all week, I’ve cried quiet tears about how appropriate it is right now that He is the one that is missing.  Peace is gone from the earth, and the whole world seems mad.

As we have looked, I have let the girls put things where they want and lights and glitter are everywhere.

The stable has moved all over the place and most of the girls have spent time with their other little toys in it.

As I have watched each of them be drawn to the stable, I have been struck.  He is not missing.  He is there.

He is in little hearts, aching for Him to be found.  He is in the glow of the fireplace and the laughter and the lights.

He is in the warmth of our happy little cabin, and though it is unfinished, somehow, His love completes it.

He is in the stable, where little hands have played for days.  He is in the hearts of the people who are working miracles in our lives.

He is here.

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