The Ostrich – (nosuchthingasthedevil, there’s only what we can see)
The Rhino – (I’ll fight on my own: stand back Holy Spirit, with my lightning prayer moves I got it covered)
The Hamster- (stay on the wheel buddy, keep busy and it’ll all be fine)
or – my personal default: The Porcupine.
Here’s the drill: A few weeks with my prickles out, pretending everything is fine. Mainly to myself. I’m not as close to the Lord as I’d like, but it’s Winter Solstice! I’m sticking cocktail sticks in oranges and He’s sorting out presents for good boys and girls. (Oh wait, that’s someone else.. )
In my head I reckon I’ll migrate automatically towards the manger. Biblical truth will impart itself osmotically through the medium of tinsel and mincing pies.
Ok, maybe not. But this is still a situation that I can fix. No need to bother God with it or talk to Jesus.
What I need is A Decent Quiet Time or Some Better Bible Notes. So, in the gap between Hollyoaks and Hairy Biscuit Bakers, I open the Bible, and search for something reassuring about sheep. Instead I end up blinking at the regulations on mildew.
I’m about to give up, but on the mantlepiece I catch a glimpse of the Christmas scene again. And it hits me – Christmas is not about me travelling towards the stable. That’s the point. If I could make it to heaven by myself, Jesus need never have left.
The devil tells me I can make it to God on foot – but he mocks me every time I stumble. Christmas is a reminder that God has come to me. And that tiny baby is stronger than the mightiest army.