Each year at Christmastime, I have set my African nativity out on the bookshelf in the livingroom. Over time and the antics of a curious little brother who can never leave things alone, the characters have become a bit, well, worn.
Let's face it, they've been through some trials. They've been lost behind the bookshelf countless times. Played with, pulled on, no doubt tossed against some walls now and then. One is missing an arm. Parts of the banana leaf robes are torn away. Joseph can't stand up straight; he has to lean on the edge of the hut. These are ragged people. So were the people who came to Jesus. Shepherds. Fishermen. Beggars. Cripples. The outcasts and refuse of society. Common laborers. Uneducated. Tax Collecters. Shunned. Lepers. The dying and the dead. People barely hanging on to the last shreds of hope. Adulterers. Children. Unwanted. Unimportant. Hoards of people with ragged bodies....even more with ragged lives and ragged hearts. Holding on to the tattered shreds of the life they once dreamed could be theirs. These are the ones who came to Jesus. And He came to them. Wrapped Himself in their skin. In their tattered rags. In their obscure lives. Because He wanted to make them whole.
Today we can feel a bit ragged, worn almost clear through. And Jesus is speaking to our hearts something like this...."I came for you. I have always been coming for you. My wounds make you well. My brokenness makes you whole. My death makes you alive. My surrender makes you free. Come to Me, all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens...they aren't yours to carry. I will give you rest. I will be your rest."
So come, all you ragged people. Because in Jesus, in our Immanuel? You are whole.
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