At long last, the nightmare of dismantling 4 years worth of junk and fitting it into reused cardboard is over – only now we’ve got to handle all the same stuff, just in reverse, leaving me to repeat the sacred mantra I have said time and time again over the course of my short lifetime: “I never want to move again.”
My parents have moved once every 4 years since they were pre-teens. As the child of these missionary parents, that same fate was mine as well, but each time I secretly prayed it was the last time. The point is, moving can be hard (We’re happy we moved).
When God the Son agreed to be the solution to humankind’s problem, He was agreeing to move. God moved from a perfectly comfortable location, prime real estate you might say, house with a view, fully loaded, and relocated to the worst part of town – Earth. As Bill explained last Sunday, instead of forever communicating with us through middle-men (priests) and long distance phone calls, God “pitched his tent” among us – He moved to be where we are. But a single location in a single time on earth was never His final destination -- His final destination was within us. So while the countdown to Christmas began in the “Dateless Past,” and the victory shout was sounded on Easter, the whisperings of this final homecoming began on Christmas day. If Christ is in you, Merry Christmas! – the property value of the lives around you can’t help but improve.