What Child is This?
One of my favorite Christmas songs is What Child Is This? This haunting melody draw me in to reflect on the lowly humanity of Christ and then worship Him as Savior. Come reflect with me for a moment on the humanity of Christ and the world into which He was born. It is in this lowly humanness that we can find deep comfort and hope during a holiday season made more painful by the loss of a child.
“What Child is this who, laid to rest On Mary’s lap is sleeping? Whom angels greet with anthems sweet, While shepherds watch are keeping?
Who is this who lives with the lowly, Sharing their sorrows, knowing their hunger? This is Christ, revealed to the world In the eyes of a child, a child of the poor.
This, this is Christ the King, Whom shepherds guard and angels sing; Haste, haste, to bring Him laud, The Babe, the Son of Mary.”
In the second chapter of the Gospel of Matthew, we read the heart-wrenching account of King Herod killing all the baby boys in Bethlehem. When he realized he had been outwitted by the Magi and had lost his chance to find the promised child, he ordered the murder of innocent baby boys in his rage. As a mother who has lost a child, this account nearly destroys me.
But I want you to stop and think about this: this was the very world, this was the pain—the loss of children—that Jesus was born into. It was not a cozy picture of a warmly-lit stable with snow silently covering the ground and docile animals staring adoringly at a newborn. Into this world of pain and heartbreak, loss and grief, sorrow, hunger, and cold, was born Someone who would take on our sorrows. In doing so, He would bring eternal hope and healing. Isaiah prophesies about Jesus, saying:
“He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces He was despised, and we esteemed Him not. Surely He has borne our grief and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But He was pierced for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities; upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with His wounds we are healed.” Isaiah 53:3-5
As mothers who have lost precious babies, we carry in our hearts deep sorrows. It was into our world of pain and sorrow that Jesus was born as a baby. It is this lowly humanity of Jesus that invites us into a deep relationship with Him. Often, when we focus on the deity of Christ, we overlook the truth that He was also a real flesh and blood human. He can relate to our pain because He experienced the same. Jesus came to be with us where the pain is.
Christmas is a bittersweet season for me since the loss of our daughter. She spent one Christmas with us, alive and kicking in my belly. By mid-January, she was safe in the arms of Jesus. I cherish the memories of that year, but I also feel a deep sadness that she will never wake on Christmas morning to open presents with her sisters. But she has experienced the better morning awakening—opening her eyes to see the face of Jesus. Jesus, who now holds her safe in His arms, once came as a baby into my world of pain and sorrow so He could bring hope and healing.
So, as I hang her ornaments on our tree this year, I will praise Jesus for His humble humanity and His willingness to share my heartbreak so I can one day share in eternal glory.
Dear mama, in the waiting between now and eternity, remember that you do not walk alone. Our faithful God is with you because of Jesus’ incarnation—humbly joining us in our humanity, taking on our sorrows, and ultimately bringing us healing and hope. May these truths greatly encourage your heart this holiday season.
“Scars and struggles on the way But with joy our hearts can say Yes, our hearts can say Never once did we ever walk alone Never once did You leave us on our own You are faithful, God, You are faithful.” Never Once, by Matt Redman
- Abigail
Hope Mom to Sarabeth Marie
Abigail is mama to her toddler daughter and to Sarabeth who went to be with Jesus seven days after her birth in January 2018. She and her husband, Chad, live in Berea, KY on the family farm where they raise cattle. In addition to being a stay-at-home-mom and teaching piano part-time, Abigail blogs on Facebook and Instagram at A Healing Gratitude where her desire is to share Sarabeth’s story in a way that highlights the goodness and love of God and demonstrate how gratitude can lead to greater healing.
We would be honored to share your story as a Hope Mom on our blog. On Saturdays we feature Hope Moms’ stories in order to showcase God’s faithfulness even in the midst of such deep sorrow. If you would like to have your story shared on our blog for this purpose, learn more and submit here.
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