It happens to me every year. A moment... a point in time when the true Spirit of Christmas enters my heart just as surely as if it is a physical occurrence. It may spring forth from something I see, or something I hear. I never know when or why it will happen, but every year for as far back as I can remember it simply does.
Last night as I sat in the bleachers of the local Middle School Gym, a young French Horn player came to the front to play her part as the guest Soloist of the evening. She played a Trio of traditional Christmas Carols each of which I know and love. The last, was Silent Night. As I sat and listened to the beautiful melody fill the room and resound all around me....it happened.
My heart and mind were still and quiet and I heard it, the message. Delivered as the notes spoke in a crystal clear voice...A gift to be given. A gift in the form of the most precious of all creations...a baby. An innocent gift of life and peace to anyone who would willingly accept it. An immeasurably sacrificial gift that goes beyond my power of comprehension: For God so loved the world, he gave his ONLY begotten son... John 3:16.
I cried...because I know I am not worthy to accept such a priceless gift, and yet I am so grateful to be a recipient.