Two things:

First, I’m sorry to whoever has to be in or near a room with me in it tomorrow (and especially sorry to my fellow Circle of Hope Public Meeting team members), as I have made and enjoyed this oddly delicious garlic lemonade, in an effort to shake a persistent and cramping-my-style cough.

Second, Rod will be delighted to know that I’ve got this gem stuck in my head.

Here’s what the lyrics mean:

From starry skies descending,
Thou comest, glorious King,
A manger low Thy bed,
In winter’s icy sting;

O my dearest Child most holy,
Shudd’ring, trembling in the cold!
O Great God, Thou lovest me!
What suff’ring Thou didst bear,
That I near Thee might be!

Thou art the world’s Creator,
God’s own and true Word,
Yet here no robe, no fire
For Thee, Divine Lord.

Dearest, fairest, sweetest Infant,
Dire this state of poverty.
The more I care for Thee,
Since Thou, O Love Divine,
Will now so poor be.

I don’t know yet why I needed a reminder that Jesus didn’t come the way folks expected Jesus to come. But there it is. Perhaps as I face the uncertainty of the years ahead and the unanswered questions, I can remember that, in some respects, forming expectations is a fruitless endeavor. Perhaps the cries of a needy God-baby are a reminder that what’s right in front of our faces, the very moment we are in, is where we are needed most, where we can learn the most, and where we can find the most contentment.