From last Christmas:
I was talking to God just now.
I wished Him a very happy birthday.
Then I thought, well, maybe that’s not what one says to God incarnate. I mean, He came from heaven, where all is Light and Love and Good and the angels worship Him ceaselessly. He is not bound by a body or time. Then He came down here, with animal poop and a human mom and dad. Here He faced tiredness, disease, weakness, frustration, temptation. People used Him, mocked Him, beat Him, and crucified Him. Then, praise the Lord, He conquered death to bring us Life. So, it seems appropriate to wish fellow humans, for whom His coming is a joyous miracle, a merry Christmas. But to tell God “Happy birthday” on the anniversary of His coming down to this, well, hell-hole? “Hey God, hope you’re having a great day-you-took-on-skin-and-muscle-to-save-the-poor-stinking-naked-critters-that-rebelled-against-you-and-disrupted-all-of-creation.” It seemed a bit odd.
But, as always, God shows me His beauty. It was a “happy” thing for Him to be born, from His perspective, too. Sure, life on earth was far from heaven, literally, but He came with Joy. He suffered with Love. He walked with Thanksgiving. It is completely wrapped up in who He is (Love) to come down as one of us poor creatures to save us all. He wanted to. He chose to. With Joy.
Happy birthday, Jesus.