Strength that stoops to conquer

Today I wiped a little red nose and held my little boy as he slept feverishly. 

This little frail bundle reminded me of one of the talks given on our recent College and Career retreat by our dear friend L.B. Graham.  We approached the book of Revelation as a doxology of Christ.  In Revelation 1: 13, John sees an image of the Risen Christ.  He is powerful and terrifying and John falls at the feet of his Savior as if dead.  L.B. reminded us that this was not the pasty pale Jesus that often adorns the walls of our homes or our Sunday school rooms.  This image is one of wisdom, judgment, and exacting strength and yet, Christ reaches down to John and tells him not to fear.

How does this relate to my little sick boy?  This same God, the One who spoke the universe into being, the One who holds the stars in their places, the One who knows how many hairs are on my head was born into filth to an unknown couple in a little town of no reputation.  He wasn't born into a body that was immune to sickness or fever, but a body that could and would die.  What humiliation!

Jesus could have come with eyes blazing and with legions of angels at his beckon, yet he humbled Himself and entered the world as a little child so that we may be God's children.