At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Who, then, is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And he said: "Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me. -Matthew 18:1-5

     One Christmas Eve several years back, a mother and her daughter scooted in to the wooden pews of an old New England church for the start of a candle-light service. Mr. and Mrs. Watson, an older couple, were seated next to them and befriended the mother-daughter duo while waiting for the service to begin. The course of their conversation went something like this:

      Tina's eyes got real big, and it was clear she was impressed by this very large number, but this time she didn't say anything for awhile. Then she leaned over to her mother:

     Once, while teaching a class of fifth graders, I invited them to imagine Jesus showing up in class: "What questions would you ask him," I queried.

     "Will there be puppies in heaven?" "Is my grandfather in heaven?" "Do we have to stand and sing all the time?" "Does everybody have to wear wings?" Almost every question from every child was eternal in nature. Only one child asked the "how come" questions we adults drift towards when we greet God in conversations, thoughts and prayers: "How come bad people get rich?" "How come good people die?"

     Most of the kids in that fifth-grade class had parents that made them feel safe, and that kept them from having to face life's harsh realities before their coping skills were fully formed. But this one young girl's health and circumstances had already crashed the fences and robbed her of her childhood.

     "Except you come as a child," Jesus says...

     Each Christmas season, most of us struggle to capture the magic Christmas once held for us, unaware we've simply let it slip from view by focusing on here and now at the expense of the victorious future of the then and forever. When the star over Bethlehem cast its' rays like a compass over the place where Jesus was born, God pushed back the darkness, freeing our souls and our hearts to once again see and think eternally.