I opened my eyes for the first time, and the world greeted me with cold air and unfamiliar sounds. My human lungs struggled for breath, and I cried out—an instinct, not a command from my divinity, but a reflex of this fragile body I now inhabited. For a moment, I was simply a child, born into the world like every other. But I knew I was not like any other.
I could hear the whispers of angels in the heavens above, praising the Father for the arrival of His Son. The cries of joy echoed from realms unseen, yet here, in this small stable, everything felt so small, so ordinary. The smell of straw mixed with the scent of animals, and the sounds of bleating sheep and lowing cattle filled the air. It was not the arrival one would expect for a King, yet this was the way it had been chosen. I did not question the Father's plan, though I felt the strangeness of it all.
I felt Mary's arms wrap around me, holding me close to her chest. Her heartbeat was steady, a rhythm I had never heard before. She was tired, but her heart was full of wonder. I looked up at her, my mother, the one chosen to carry Me. Her eyes sparkled with tears, and I could sense her joy, but also the weight of what she did not yet fully understand. She knew I was special, but she could not yet comprehend the fullness of what lay ahead.
Joseph stood nearby, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch my head. His faith was strong, though his mind was filled with questions. How could I be both her son and the Son of God? He believed, though he didn't fully understand. And that was enough. Faith without sight—this was what would be required of all who would follow Me.
The shepherds came next. They arrived breathless, stumbling into the stable, eyes wide with amazement. They had seen the angels, heard the proclamation in the fields. "A Savior has been born," they had said, "Christ the Lord." These humble men knelt before me, their rough hands folded in reverence, their faces glowing with wonder. I saw their hearts—simple, honest, full of awe. They did not need to understand the mystery of who I was; they simply believed. It was enough for them to witness the light in the night sky, to hear the words spoken by the heavenly hosts. They had come to see the light for themselves.
And I, in this moment of fragility, felt the weight of their belief. I was the light. I had left the glory of heaven, where there was no pain, no hunger, no death, and now I lay in a manger, dependent on the care of my earthly mother and father. I was both helpless and powerful. It was a strange paradox, one that my human mind could not yet fully grasp, though the fullness of my divinity already knew it well.
The shepherds spoke in hushed tones, as if afraid to disturb the peace of the moment. I could feel their awe and their confusion. They marveled that the Messiah would be born in such humble surroundings. They had expected a palace, a throne. But I had come not to rule from a distance but to live among the people, to walk with them, to feel their pain, and to show them the way to the Father.
Even now, as a baby, I could feel the weight of the world pressing upon me. It was a strange sensation, this burden of being both human and divine. I knew the pain that awaited me, the suffering, the rejection. I knew the cross. But for now, in this moment, there was peace. The cries of the world had not yet reached me.
Mary held me close, her soft voice singing a lullaby. I could feel her love, and in that moment, I was comforted. Though my heart carried the burden of eternity, I allowed myself to rest in the arms of the one chosen to care for me. She was young, yes, but her faith was strong. She didn't understand everything, but she trusted in the Father's plan. And that trust would carry her through the difficult days ahead.
I closed my eyes and drifted into sleep, but my spirit was wide awake. I could hear the Father's voice, gentle and steady. "This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." The words echoed in my heart, filling me with peace. I had left the glory of heaven to take on human flesh, to dwell among those I had created, and this was just the beginning.
The night grew still. The shepherds lingered for a while, their hearts full of wonder, and then they left to spread the news of what they had seen. Mary and Joseph watched over me, their hearts full of questions, but also full of love. They did not know all that would come, but they knew enough for now.
I was here, in the world, and the light had begun to shine.
This was the beginning of the journey, a journey that would lead to many moments of joy, sorrow, and sacrifice. I would heal the sick, raise the dead, teach the crowds, and speak of the Father's love. I would walk among the broken, the sinners, the lost, and show them the way. And one day, I would carry the cross.
But for now, in this small stable, I rested. The world did not yet know who I was, but soon they would. Soon, the light would shine brighter than ever before.