How did He do it?

Driving in to work today I heard a new Christmas song by Mercy Me called Joseph's Lullabye. Being a dad of two small boys it piqued my intrest - thinking some of what Joseph must have thought.

Listening to the song, I wept in my truck. I have no idea how Mary and Joseph handled knowing Jesus was God's Son. Were they fully aware of exactly how Jesus would "save the world?" As they held their newborn baby what must have went through their mind.

I thought about my own two boys and how much I love them. I thought about Wesley running into our room first thing in the morning to "snuggle with mommy and daddy." I pictured Jeremiah as he smiles in his crib when I walk into his room after his nap. I thought how their cry can stop me in my tracks, make me run to them and do everything I can to fix whatever is wrong.

How did Mary and Joseph do it? How was Mary able to watch as her Son was beaten, bloodied and crucified for the sins of the world - for her sins? How much did she long to turn back the hands of time to when He was a little boy "snuggling with mommy and daddy?" How bad did she want to stop His suffering, for His sake, for her sake?

But even more than Mary and Joseph, how did God do it? Jesus' earthly parents had no real control over what was happening, but God did. He allowed it. He ordained it.

You may be reading this as someone that I personally know and love. You may be reading this as someone that I have never met, but I love through Christ. Regardless of my feelings toward you, I could not, would not knowingly send either of my sons to be tortured and killed for you.

I don't have that in me, but God does and that amazes me. He could watch from heaven as His perfect Son took on my sin to save me in the most extreme way. I cannot fathom that type of love. I understand it even less when I realize that I am the object of such passion.

As I contemplate Christmas, I can't help but to think about 33 years later and Easter. This cute, tiny baby lying in a manger, worshipped by shepherds would one day be a bloody, disfigured man hanging on a cross ridiculed by soldiers.

This does not cheapen Christmas in anyway, but makes me even more grateful of the enormous gift that God gave me in His Son, especially when I think of my own sons.