Ah, Christmas approaches! This, after perhaps Easter, is the most glorious holiday of the year. How can one not be thrilled at the thought of the day? Our King came, lowly and humbly, but bound to wage a great battle. He was sent from His great heavenly seat to this sin-wracked earth, and was born of a simple Judaen girl in a byre in rural Israel. The lowliest of men, sheep-herds, praised Hm at His coming- but strange noble men out of the East sought Him, and a great star shone upon Him. In the Temple an odd old prophet blessed Him and prophesied His death and His mother's woe- and the salvation He would bring. And on one might go- He is beyond measure of words, being Word Himself! Let us hush our woes and still our hurried feet and give Him due reverence this Christ-mas.

Who is this King of Glory? The LORD strong and mighty, the LORD mighty in battle!