Father, I praise you and thank you for how great and wonderful you are. You live in unapproachable light and yet you chose the still darkness of a silent night, a pitch-dark stable to make your appearance so that your light could speak for itself–so your messengers, your angels could come and proclaim the miracle of your birth.
You are the one whom no one has seen or can see, yet you made your appearance in the most vulnerable way possible–a squirming, hungry, fussy little baby–you allowed us to behold your glory. Your first heavenly message came, not to the religious officials, kings, queens or diplomats, but was announced to a very scared and very young woman and an uncertain but somehow remarkably strong man named Joseph and finally, to a group of men who were considered so unclean that they had no place even close to the temple. Your glory became abased for us, your splendor wrapped in strips cloth and your majesty confined to a tiny little stable and yet you, like your Father, love the world.
There are no words to say but “thank you.”
Now we bow our heads and we humble our hearts and we reflect on a year of how good you are, how you pour out your love in big and small ways–how we, if we pause can find the greatest gifts in our own home, sitting next to us on the couch, munching cereal at the breakfast table and requesting toilet paper from the bathroom door.
We say “thank you” for the moments of “oh my goodness!” and for the moments of sheer “help me.” Because you are you and you never leave us, never forsake us because you live in us. Amen.