On The Eve of Doing Something Terrific

It was a terrible, terrible day. I mean, what Amri did to those 12 people is unforgiveable, not to mention Trumps gonna make a lot of nervous nuclear trigger fingers even more uneasy with all his macho talk, but this, this was the worst! First of all, Herods men went around committing infant genocide by killing male babies like Christmas chickens. Then the Innkeeper had the nerve to tell me-the goose about to lay the golden egg, that there is no room for us (notice he didn’t say there’s no room, he said there is no room” for us”, as in lower class, poor people, you know the same way you get to a really nice club, but then the bouncers look you from head to toe and say VIP is full? Yeah, like that. Not that I’ve ever been to a club anyway, that’s from another century.) Mary. Mary, Mary, Mary! You’re gonna bear a son, and he is going to grow up to do all this wonderful things, but nobody ever told me that it was going to suck this much. And suck isn't  a word I expected would be related to me when I got this call.

But it did, it did suck. I carried this potential in my womb for a long time, and they were right when they said success is a lonely road to travel-thank God for Joseph though- but you’d expect that due to the gravity of your mission, the fact that your setting yourself apart to make the world a better place, the inhabitants of said world would be a little more accommodating, but they’re not. That crazy King has his crown all in a bunch, thinking my Son is going to be ruling from a castle, living the lavish life, battling terrestrial armies. But he’s gravely wrong, my Son is going to be seated on a throne in heavenly places, high above all the principalities and powers that dare contend with Him. Poor Herod, he’s just gotta be a hater, wish someone could tell him the birth of my dream doesn’t necessarily mean the death of his. It’s funny how oppression works, the rich, worried about the going on’s of peasants, restless on their king sized beds. Oh well, it’s a cot of hay for little Jesus.
I have to admit there’s nothing neat about this mission, but it’s mine and I’ve got to see it through till the end. Never mind the fact that God didn’t ask me for my permission. He swooped in and used my womb as a dressing room, put on the costume of flesh so He can put on a show, a show of salvation. But even if He asked would I for a second have thought about saying no? He called, I answered and now I couldn’t abort this dream if I wanted to. It’s His and now it is tremendously mine as well. All I can do is lay here, be in his rest, and push by faith, push through this labor, push through this pain, because I know that this eve of toil and exertion, is also the eve of doing  something terrific!


In The Alternate Universe.

Its 7.15 pm. Its been a long uneventful day and you sit down on the couch. The television is on, there’s electricity, and there are a whole number of things you can indulge in. But not today, today there’s something different. There’s a winding reptilian darkness slithering in your heart, and you know nothing you do is gonna be good enough, so you’ve got to do something bad, real bad.

That’s been you, that’s been me on some days, the eves of doing something terrible. Days when it appears the devils been making subtle suggestions, playing tricks on you for weeks, maybe months, and now his done with his mind games, he’s Patrick Jane and it’s the last couple minutes of the episode, he’s looking for a game over where you’re the loser. What are you going to do, are you going to buckle? Are you going to make that call, visit that place, and open that box? Yeah it’s never felt like a better time to do just that, but believe me, this is the time you want to pull out a plot twist, the devils got you backed into a corner, your facial expression is petrified, but then you look him in the eye and say