Royal Baby Hoop-la

I am definitely not a news junkie.  In fact, I'd go so far as to say that I hate the news and avoid it like the plague.  My father is appalled by this.  He has a hard time believing that I can function in a world without knowing what's going on it.  In fact, if something of note takes place that he thinks I should know about, he'll call me with the latest current event.  I assure him that what I need to know, I find out somehow - usually through him!

But I must admit that I did click on the news links early this week to find out if Britain's newest heir to the throne was a boy or girl.  And then again this morning I did a little surfing to catch a glimpse of the photos of the new prince wrapped in white, lying in his mother's arms.  I read of the world-wide excitement over this little one, of the combined 103-gun salute to acknowledge his birth, of the ringing of Westminster's bells for three hours straight.

And it suddenly struck me - the contrast between the welcome of this new prince compared to that of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords who was born in darkness, obscurity and poverty.  Heir to the whole world received a very different kind of welcome.  Creator of all that is seen and unseen doesn't receive a fraction of praise that the world is giving at this moment to an earthly prince.  Ironic, isn't it?

And yet, on the very heels of the previous thoughts came this one:  Not yet, He doesn't.  One Day, the Bible says, every knee shall bow.  One Day, He will receive His rightful praise.  One Day, even Britain's newest prince will bow his knee to his Creator.  And, I hope, for his sake, he does it willingly. 

May that be our prayer for the babe wrapped in white.