Our lives changed when Meaghan was born. We had new priorities, we made new plans for the future and we restructured the marking of time. We developed new routines, played simpler games, spoke in softer tones and read stories that required creative voices. Delight took on a new shape. The magnitude of joy was inversely proportionate to the tiny size of our Meggie Widget. She changed our lives.
In those first weeks, I commented on this to our good friend, Pat. I told her how much I felt our lives had changed because of Meaghan’s birth. She replied, “That’s good. Having a baby should change you. If it didn’t, something would be wrong.”
So if a little child like Meaghan changes me, what should we expect when the Son of God becomes a man to rescue souls enveloped in darkness and liberate creation from its bondage to decay? If Jesus’ birth doesn’t change me, something’s wrong. His birth, more than any other, has the capacity to infuse my life with new priorities, new plans for the future. His birth should restructure how I mark time; his life would be the thread in the pattern of daily and weekly routines. He bids me play simpler games and speak in softer tones. His life has the potential to draw out creative voices that have long lay dormant. Delight takes on a new shape in Christ.
Jesus, change my life; grant me joy in proportion to the magnificence of your hidden majesty.