Philippians 2 keeps inserting itself into my calm and serene picture
of a child born in a small town
with animals bedding down
What happens to the pressure of glory
the volume of godness
when all is reduced to the womb of a virgin
released to the shelter of a manger
growing into the hands of a carpenter
splintered onto the wood of a cross?
When the nails pierced glory,
did glory begin to seep out through the skin, dripping onto the ground
... bursting through death into a resurrection
that led all of creation into its wake?
Death, nor life,
powers nor earth
could contain this glory.
But for a moment in time,
all of eternity held its breath
God breathed through the lungs of a man.
Laid down glory and claim to power.
What happens to a universe when glory is held in one small child?
Perhaps it will take the rest of eternity to unfold ...