Thoughts from the Hour Part 2: Look into the Manger

Note: The original "Part 2" was changed to "Part 3" in keeping with the chronological order of the Gospels. It will be re-posted shortly.

"And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:) To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child. And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn" (Luke 2:4-7, emphasis added).

She laid Jesus in a manger. A manger is nothing more than a trough that horses and cows eat out of. Think about it: she laid Jesus, the King of Kings, in a manger. I don't imagine it was the cleanest crib, and I doubt it smelled very nice. The King of Kings, used to a land of light and glory, become a babe and was lying in a dirty, smelly feeding box! And why? He did it for us, friends. He did it so that the poorest of the poor could never say He didn't know the struggles they passed through.

That is food for thought enough, but I want to bring something else to your attention today as you contemplate this scene. In light of this condescension made by Christ on our behalf, in light of the level of poverty to which His Majesty stooped, why do we allow ourselves to complain about not having this house or that car, this fridge or that blender, this dress or those shoes, or whatever it may be? Why do we let our hearts clamor for more, more, more? If Jesus passed by the luxurious homes of the rich when it came to where He should be born, why don't we pass them by?
I don't mean that in the physical sense; I mean that in regards to our way of looking at things, our mentality. Considering what our Lord had, should we not be utterly content? Most of us have far more than He ever did. Our hearts' striving for gain should be hushed, and thankfulness should take the place of griping. If some of us are indeed so poor that we have nearly nothing, then we should be cheered by the thought that the Master knows all about it; in fact, we should consider it an honor to tread the same path that He has trod, and we should remember that His grace is sufficient for any infirmity--even poverty.

Thinking about all this has subdued me. It has refocused my perspective, and has set my priorities straight. Once again eternal things are the most important things. I hope you can say the same after reading this, and that we all may attain them in the end.

Blessings,
Jean