in our Bleak Midwin Ter

[He] shared in their humanity so that by his death he might . . . free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death. [ HEBREWS 2:14–15 ]

It probably wasn’t a “bleak midwinter” when Jesus was born. Given the climate in Palestine, there probably was no “frosty wind” moaning, and it’s highly unlikely that “snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow.” But these haunting lines from nineteenth-century English poet Christina Rosetti’s poem, now best known as the Christmas carol “In the Bleak Midwinter”, still ring profoundly true.

By describing Christ coming in the harshest of winters, Rosetti painted a picture of a harsh world in desperate need of hope. Her words “earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone” point beyond the literal to the state of human hearts—wounded and hardened by pain and death.

And in our bleakest of winters, Christ comes. The One who, as Rosetti wrote, “cherubim worship night and day”, was content with the humility of living “fully human in every way” (HEBREWS 2:17). He entered our world, sharing in our humanity to “free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death” (V. 15). He came to forever free us from the grip of death on our hearts, to free our hearts to experience joy.

It’s a gift beyond words and beyond repayment. As Rosetti concluded, “What can I give Him, poor as I am?” But our prayer can be, “What I can I give Him: give my heart.”

MONICA LA ROSE

REFLECT: In what ways are you experiencing a ‘bleak midwinter’? How does the gift of Christ offer hope?

PRAY: Dear Jesus, please help me give You my heart.

Today

Luke 2:11