“Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, to be registered with Mary, his betrothed wife, who was with child. So it was, that while they were there, the days were completed for her to be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn Son, and wrapped Him in swaddling clothes, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. Luke 2:4-7. (NKJV).
The choir stood on risers, their voices filled with the joy of the season. Parents smiled, proud of their little ones. The narrator did his part, keeping the story on track.
Susan smiled. So far, so good. The four and five-year-olds taking part were well behaved but there was Ricky, a free spirit. Her brows furrowed.
A stirring from the back of the church. Her head swiveled. Did a dog sneak in and was crawling to the front under the pews? Probably belonged to one of the kids in the pageant. Folks shuffled to let it past. Just as Mary and Joseph leaned over the manger, a head popped up from under the first pew, crawled to the manger, peeped in.
“He’s alive,” Ricky jumped up, shouted to the stunned audience. “He really is alive. Look, if you don’t believe me.” He pointed to the baby who began to cry, his little fists swatting the air.
Susan hurried over, picked up her baby, and turned to the audience. “So sorry. Didn’t mean to cause a fuss, but he was asleep so I--”
Applause and a standing ovation from the congregation interrupted her.
"Well done, Susan," Pastor John smiled, his arm around Ricky. He turned to the congregation. "Do I hear an amen?"
Kingdom Thinking. In my busy life, I fail to remember the Baby in the manger is real. All God and all man. He was born of a virgin, lived in a small village as a carpenter, was crucified, dead and buried. But the story doesn't end there. He rose from the dead, ascended into Heaven. He promises to love you and never leave you. Believe me. He wants you to know He's alive!