Somewhere from a vantage point that none of us can fathom, The Three were watching. They saw the events unfolding before them, and they knew. No words needed to be spoken. All eternity up until this point had been building towards this moment. The Father looked to The Son with eyes full of pain and The Son returned his gaze with understanding. Both knew what they were on the verge of, and there was no going back. A mighty war had been raging throughout the ages and it's aftermath was playing out in the lives below. It was time. Rescue was at hand.
At that moment, The Chosen were living under the reign and rule of The Emperor. His mighty mandate was given that all should be counted and taken inventory of. This egregious decree posed no shortage of frustration and uprising among The Chosen. Everyone was ordered back to the homeland of their fathers for the counting and after much revolting and rebellion, eventually they conceded.
The Mentor took his expectant fiance, The Mother, and both joined the caravan and journeyed to the city of his ancestor. The road was long and dry and their journey was not easy. Taking the better part of a week, they eventually reached their destination exhausted and in much need of rest.
Shortly after their arrival, The Mother went into labor. It was time, the child was coming and they were in desperate need of a place to rest. Because of the overwhelming number of visitors, they had great difficulty finding a place to stay. No one knew what was really about to happen. All of the inns were full and even the homes had no rooms available for the soon-to-be family.
Eventually they located a stable where they could take refuge. The accommodations were far from desirable and barely acceptable for the events that were about to unfold. But it was time. There, in a small cave, under the watchful eye of livestock and man, The Mother gave birth. The Savior had arrived.
The Guard erupted into song and celebration like none had ever seen before. The stars in the sky paled in comparison to the light that shone from the ethereal jubilee. The Watchers were in their fields and fell to their knees as the ground rumbled and shook beneath them. The Captain calmed them and told them not to be afraid. This was a time for exalting. For that night, in the town of their ancestors, The King had been born. Their rescuer had arrived. The invasion was complete. While the mission was far from over, there was much reason to rejoice. God had become man.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Nativity
Posted by
Erik J. Lundeen
at
7:23 AM
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Thursday, September 2, 2010
My Father's Voice
Recently I attended a conference in the mountains where nearly 500 men were in attendance. One morning, as I was enjoying my coffee and sitting out on a balcony overlooking the grounds of the camp, I was watching as a crowd of men made their way towards the amphitheater for our morning session.
In the midst of this large group of men, I heard my dad's voice through the crowd, as he was in attendance as well. I quickly surveyed the crowd from my vantage point above everyone, but I was unable to locate my dad. I know I heard him, and I know he was there, but I could not see him. You see, I know my father and because I know him I can recognize his voice even amidst the voices of dozens of other men.
It made me think of other men in attendance who aren't as fortunate. There are men who have never met their fathers. Not only do they not know them as a person, there is no way they could ever recognize the voice of their father even if he were screaming at them in a quiet room. I mean, they would hear it then, but they wouldn't know who it was that was yelling at them.
It then became obvious to me that our relationship with God is much the same. How well we know Him correlates directly with our ability to hear His voice. The closer we are to Him, the easier it is to hear Him. The more we know Him, the more we are able to listen to Him. If we don't know Him, we will be unable to distinguish his voice among the other voices we hear on a daily basis.
Need guidance on a big decision? Wondering if you should take that job? Need wisdom in dealing with a family problem or issues with coworkers? How can you ever expect to hear any answers if you aren't closely connected to Him?
You see, when I heard my dad's voice, he wasn't yelling. He wasn't screaming my name... he wasn't even talking about me. And he wasn't the only one talking, either. He was barely audible above the sound of the other voices of the other men walking in the same crowd. But I knew his voice. I could clearly distinguish it and pick it out of the crowd because I know him. Because of our history. Because he has taught me. Raised me. Scolded me. Fathered me. I know his voice.
The Father is speaking. Always. And I guess the question isn't really whether or not you can hear Him... but are you listening?
Posted by
Erik J. Lundeen
at
7:25 PM
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