I know that at Christmastime we like to focus our attention to the softer side of spiritual things...on the tender soft hands and feet of the most important infant in the history of creation.

And the story is amazingly beautiful, isn't it?  So many miracles included in the story. 

But this Christmas I am focused on the main reason why the baby even came.  To die.
Those precious soft hands will be pierced, the soft skin will be whipped, the most grusome torture will be the punishment this little one will eventually have to face. 

Why?  Simply said, because God loves us.  John 3:16 sums it up so nicely, "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life."

My grandmother went home to her heavenly father a few weeks ago.  We gathered this past weekend to celebrate her.  It was sad, as any death brings a level of sadness because we are separated from that loved one for a while.  It was also gladness, my grandmother was 95, had lived a good life, but for the past few years she could not remember who anyone was.  I can't imagine being in a constant state of confusion, frustrated that you should know this person visiting you but you just can't.  Fear of the unknown.  Good thing her faith was strongly anchored- her life was one walk of faith, seeking to know her Father's heart.  Because when all else is lost, when you don't even know your own family, perhaps you still hold on to the most important thing in life to know.  Jesus.

Family gathered from multiple states to remember her.  All my extended family, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc came to remember her.  I have not seen much of my family for 7 years.  Walter was a baby.  And for one day, one day we gathered at the church and then went to my Uncle Roger and Aunt Karen's house and spent the day together.  We spent the day doing what my Grandma and PapPap loved the most.  Being a family, lifting songs of praise to the Lord and that house was filled with love.  I am so blessed that I have a wonderful family.  And the cousins, I think caught up in the moment as well, decided we need to continue the legacy of family and plans are being made to gather together again soon, perhaps the summer.

And as we drove the 10 hours back home, I couldn't help but to think that in death we were given a gift.  In Grandma's death, we were somehow miraculously able to be there together.  No baseball games, no other schedule conflicts.  Amazing!

So Grandma's death was a gift to us, the gift that brought us together again.  And in Christ's death He is giving us the gift to be together, with each other and with him...for eternity. 
And of course that would only happen if we truly knew Jesus.
I believe we are a family of believers, and that, too is a gift passed down from Grandma and from the Lord.  A legacy of faith, hope and family.