What overwhelms me about the birth of Christ is the strange mixture of emotion. One one hand it's as if the tiny child is the first glimmer of a dawning star which is the glory of God shown marvelous in Christ's humility. On one hand the angels rejoice as they see God's power and wisdom at its greatest triumph. Yet, strangely as our eyes would shine to see new life and glorious wisdom they instead well up with tears. For we know those soft grasping hands will ultimately take a nail, his precious tender brow will at his last earthly breath be ripped and torn. So with the angels we lift our voices, yet with tears streaming, to praise with our pride laid low. “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests!"
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