It all happened in a moment, a most remarkable moment. God became a man. Heaven opened herself

and placed her most precious one in a human womb. This is Max Lakato. Jesus came, not as a flash

of light or as an unapproachable conqueror, but as one whose first cries were heard

by a peasant girl and a sleepy carpenter. The hands that first held him were unmanicured, calloused,

and dirty. For 33 years, he would feel everything you and I have ever felt, weak and weary and

afraid of failure. His feelings got hurt. To think of Jesus in

such a light seems almost irreverent. There's something about keeping him divine that keeps him

distant and predictable. But don't do it. For heaven's sake, don't. Let him be as human as he intended to be.

For only if we let him in can he pull us out.