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Good morning.

This past night has seen a fair bit of tiptoeing. I’m thinking first and foremost of Santa tiptoeing over rooftops and sliding silently down chimneys. Then there are his many helpers, usually grown-up elves, who sneak around our homes and through slim cracks of doorways across every land – loitering with generous intent – to deposit goodies at the foot of beds, under trees or around fireplaces.

But the most silent of all footsteps we might note this past night are those of God. God does not march through our land with a megaphone blaring. God’s way is to surprise us by his signs– the good gifts he leaves behind, if you like. And at Christmas he surprises us with his very own self – yes, God, as one of us, a babe, alive and kicking. God has tiptoed into our world, taken on our flesh and placed himself into our arms – to be held, to be enjoyed; to be discovered, to be adored. He waits, he watches – and in a glorious reversal whereby the creator of the universe holds out a tiny hand and wraps it around our adult finger– he clings, not letting us go.

Gracious God, open our eyes to your silent footprints in our homes and through our lives. As we celebrate Christmas and enjoy its many gifts, we give thanks for the greatest gift of all: for your tiptoeing into our world and becoming one of us, in your Son Jesus Christ. We pause in wonder that you, as creator of the world, would lay yourself in our arms. Amen.