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To reveal God, to find God, to make the journey into the lap of the Beloved, is messy. Why we have ever thought otherwise I do not know. Mary's journey was messy, full of whispers I'm sure, Joseph's journey was messy, full of the same, and doubt. The Magi's journey was hardly straight, following a star, guided by betrayers, forced home another way, unsure of what they left behind. The story of our Lord's birth, and epiphany is messy, and dangerous because that is the only way the Beloved is ever revealed. In the mess, in the pain, in the love that risks hurt, in the dust of the streets, in the blaze of the sun.
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