God Came Near

“The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.”

John 1:14, NIV

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I used to picture You in heaven, looking down.

Kind, yes. Holy, certainly.

But far.

John says You made Your dwelling among us. The old word is a tent. You pitched Your tent in our camp.

Not a palace on the hill. A tent among the tents.

Lord Jesus, You smelled the wood shavings in Joseph’s workshop. You felt the dust of Galilee between Your toes. You grew tired at a well at noon and asked a stranger for water.

You did not come to visit our humanity. You came to wear it.

Near enough to touch. Near enough to be touched.

So when the night is long, I no longer look up for You. I look beside me.

The God Who could have stayed far chose the inconvenience of nearness. The crowd that pressed. The friend who betrayed. The hands that held the nails.

You know my street. You know its noise. You have walked something like it.

You did not shout grace from heaven. You came and sat down beside me.

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A Prayer of Thanksgiving

Lord Jesus, thank You for pitching Your tent among us. Thank You that no ordinary day of mine is too small for You to enter. Amen.