The Last Straw: A Heavenly Perspective - Part Four
Part Four: The Tenderness of the Father
By Christine Colliar
Over Advent we are getting a sneak peek at four heavenly perspectives on the nativity! Each week a different writer will creatively engage with the story. In our final instalment Christine Colliar imagines how God, the Father, might have felt as Jesus was born into our world…
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with me, and the Word was me. He was with me in the beginning… And we’ve never been apart since. Through him all things were made, as we spoke the world into being, softly rippling over the surface of the oceans and billowing round mountain peaks and fluttering through forest canopies, laughing with four-legged beasts and diving to the depths with the great sea creatures. We gloried in our Creation, loved it into being, enjoyed spending time with each and every thing. From the teeny, tiniest flower with a hundred overlapping, minuscule, milky-white petals, to the proud bird strutting around with his spectacular tail open, a shimmering iridescent kaleidoscope of colour. What fun we had speaking these into life! The one with the long trunk — the angels laughed about that one, rolled their eyes when they thought I couldn’t see (just what do they think omniscient means?!). But that one, with its snake-like trunk, flapping ears, and deafening bellow, has a gentle grace that defies its size. How it loves to play! I like to watch it spray water over its friends in the river, just enjoying being alive.
I remember when we started all this and placed an image of ourself in the garden in the east, in Eden. There we created our most beloved creation, in our own image — humans. They walked with us, and we revelled in each other, talking and sharing the wonder of being together. We connected at a level so profound, we really knew each other.
How it all changed. As quick as the bite of a piece of fruit.
So the Word, part of me from the start, without whom nothing was made that has been made, he is going amongst them, into the world. He will start off as each human does, as a tiny child, helpless and dependent on the young woman, Mary, who is going to give birth to him. In her womb is life, and that life is the light of all humankind. The light will shine in the darkness, and lead people back into relationship with me. We will walk in fellowship again, through my own dear son growing up and teaching them what love means.
But first… here are Mary and Joseph, safely in Bethlehem, in an animals’ sleeping area. My son will like that, he loves all our creation. Mary is arranging the fresh straw to make him comfortable in the feeding trough. The animals are edging closer, nosing him, their hot breath warming his tiny hands. So tiny. He has become so small and vulnerable. Bless you, animals of the stable, the first to recognise his majesty. Can you see the hope of humankind, placed amongst you, wrapped up in a tiny blanket? Let him sense your reverence and worship. Go on, adore Jesus!