Another excerpt from ¨An Angels Story¨ by Max Lucado.

THE AWAITED ONE
by Max Lucado

We were a wreath of Light around the stable, a necklace of diamonds
around the structure. Every angel had been called from his post for the
coming, even Michael. None doubted God would, but none knew how He could,
fulfill his promise.

I’ve heated the water!”

“No need to yell, Joseph I hear you fine.”

Mary would have heard had Joseph whispered. The stable was even smaller
than Joseph had imagined but the innkeeper was right- it was clean. I
started to clear out the sheep and cow, but Michael stopped me. “The
Father wants all of creation to witness the moment.”

Mary cried out and gripped Joseph’s arm with one hand and a feed
trough with the other. The thrust in her abdomen lifted her back, and she
leaned forward.

“Is it time?” Joseph asked.

She shot back a glance, and he had his answer.

Within moments the Awaited One was born. I was privileged to have a
position close to the couple, only a step behind Michael. We both gazed
into the wrinkled face of the infant. Joseph had placed hay in a feed
trough, giving Jesus his first bed.

All of God was in the infant. Light encircled His face and radiated
from His tiny hands. The very glory I had witnessed in His throne room now
burst through His skin.

I felt we should sing but did not know what. We had no song. We had no
verse. We had never seen the sight of God in a baby. When God had made
a star, our words had roared. When He had delivered His servants, our
tongues had flown with praise. Before His throne, our songs never ended.
But what do you sing to God in a feed trough?

In that moment a wonderful thing happened. As we looked at the baby
Jesus, the darkness lifted. Not the darkness of the night, but the
darkness of the mystery. Heaven’s enlightenment engulfed the legions.

Our minds were filled with the Truth we had never before known. We
became aware for the first time of the Father’s plan to rescue those who
bear His name.

An excerpt from ¨An Angels Story¨ by Max Lucado.

IMMANUEL

The King walked over and reached for the book. He turned it toward
Lucifer and commanded, “Come, Deceiver, read the name of the One who
will call your bluff. Read the name of the One who will storm your
gates.”

Satan rose slowly off his haunches. Like a wary wolf, he walked a wide
circle toward the desk until he stood before the volume and read the
word:

“Immanuel?” he muttered to himself, then spoke in a tone of
disbelief. “God with us?” For the first time the hooded head turned
squarely toward the face of the Father. “No. Not even You would do
that. Not even You would go so far.”

“You’ve never believed me, Satan.”

“But Immanuel? The plan is bizarre! You don’t know what it’s
like on Earth! You don’t know how dark I’ve made it. It’s putrid.
It’s evil. It’s…”

“IT IS MINE,” proclaimed the King. “AND I WILL RECLAIM WHAT IS
MINE. I WILL BECOME FLESH. I WILL FEEL WHAT MY CREATURES FEEL. I WILL
SEE WHAT THEY SEE.”

“But what of their sin?”

“I will bring mercy.”

“What of their death?”

“I will give life.”

Satan stood speechless.

God spoke, “I love my children. Love does not take away the
beloved’s freedom. But love takes away fear. And Immanuel will leave behind
a tribe of fearless children. They will not fear you or your hell.”

Satan stepped back at the thought. His retort was childish.
“Th-th-they will too!”

“I will take away all sin. I will take away death. Without sin and
without death, you have no power.”

Around and around in a circle Satan paced, clenching and unclenching
his wiry fingers. When he finally stopped, he asked a question that even
I was thinking. “Why? Why would You do this?”

The Father’s voice was deep and soft. “Because I love them.”