The Face of Christ

  • By: Shauna Amick
  • Dec. 16, 2016


Staring into a newborn baby’s face is a holy moment. That child cannot speak and may not even utter a sound, but much is communicated in those hours after birth.

Our dreams for the future, forgiveness for the past, and hope for the here and now – love, innocence, purpose – these things and infinitely more are spoken out of the silence wrapped up in a newborn babe.

So it was as I stared into the fresh faces of each of my children. As a young mother I recall being completely overwhelmed with the significance of my first child’s birth. Her face represented the tangible miracles of God, for in my lap He had placed new life; where once my arms were empty the Lord had filled me with promise for better days ahead.

Then came the birth of my son. My own tears of joy fell on his face as I could barely comprehend that God would bless me in such a way twice. My heart swelled with gratitude, my cup was overflowing with the goodness of God, and it radiated out of my little boy’s complexion.

I was not adequately prepared to see my third child. A beautiful little girl born on a glorious June morning when all seemed right with the world, the striking features associated with Down syndrome took me quite by surprise. She was in my presence for mere seconds before being whisked away to the neonatal intensive care unit. The next time I would gaze into her face, it would be covered with tubes and viewed only through the plastic walls of an incubator.

Staring down at Sarah’s face was a holy moment. Though I was speechless, the Lord had much to say, and the connections were clear. Where I saw weakness, Christ showed me His power. I saw vulnerability. He demonstrated His strength. I feared defenseless disability. He reminded me of the lowly way He came to defend all of humanity.

Though He was God, He did not think of equality with God as something to cling to. Instead, He gave up His divine privileges – He emptied Himself; reduced Himself to the likeness of human form. (Philippians 2:6-7)

He humbled Himself, and in that holy moment when Mary, Joseph, the shepherds and a sky full of angels looked down into the face of Christ, they saw the most helpless among us; a newborn baby, virtually disabled.

Could Jesus have stooped any lower to save us? He brought heaven down on the day of His birth, and He chose to do so in a way that required absolute dependence on those in His presence.

During my prayers this Advent season, I find myself peering intently into that sacred bundle wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger. I bring the broken pieces of myself, and Jesus speaks.

Dreams for the future, forgiveness for the past, and hope for the here and now. His kingdom come.

Guest post written by Shauna Amick, Senior Manager of Development at Joni and Friends.


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So beautifully written. My daughter was born with Trisomy 13...every day reminds me of God's presence and power
  • Dec. 18, 2016
  • 7:49 a.m.
  • Catherine Trewin
Wow! What a precious article! Thank you! So very powerful as we think of what our Savior did for us!
  • Dec. 16, 2016
  • 5:52 a.m.
  • Beth Hohenberger