This year I’ve been painfully and shockingly confronted by the vulnerability of the newborn child.
I’ve held and prayed for a four-month-old in an orphanage who would pass away from pneumonia just hours later. I’ve sat with a mother in a remote village as she recounted to me the loss of her first four babies due to starvation and sickness. And back home where I’m from in Sydney, I’ve watched as our nation was shocked by the discovery of a newborn in a roadside drainpipe, a desperate act and yet one that happens so regularly here in Nepal where I now live, that it would hardly raise an eyebrow.
So it astounds me when I read afresh the biblical account of Jesus’ birth at Christmas, and consider God Himself arriving as vulnerable as any one of these babies.