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December 18 One Year CloserMy face is filled with wonder, My nose pressed on the glass. A fog is formed as I breathe. But my excitement isn’t masked. Behind me everything is sparkling, Red and silver, green and gold. Stockings hung up by the fire, A peaceful sight to behold. While others sit and talk away, I just sit with wonder and awe. I know I’ll see him if I wait, And see what others saw. I’m urged to go upstairs to bed, But I’m too awake this Christmas Eve. They all told me the wondrous story, I can’t forget. I cannot leave. I stare up at the cool night sky, A shiver runs down my spine. I’m not sure what he’ll look like, But I know that all will be fine. They say he’ll bring all sorts of things, He represents both peace and love. They say he was born long ago, And now will come from above. I’ve seen some people dressed as him, But I’d like to see him as himself. I see him all the time in windows, Or sitting by me on a shelf. But as I stare at space itself, I dream of meeting him. I’ll fall into his hug so big, His smile brightening all that’s dim. I finally slip into my bed, Exhausted from my late night stare. Perhaps he would come in the night, And in the morning be waiting there. But just before I drift asleep, I look once more at the scene, Of Mary and Joseph and shepherds too. And the Baby that became a King. I know in my heart he’ll come again, Like all the people say. And I’ll always keep watch for his return, Just as I did today. King of Kings and Lord of Lords, He’s the perfect example of grace. This Christmas is the best of all… We’re one year closer to seeing his face. May everyone have a Christ-filled holiday season! December 14 Let's Not Forget
The gifts are nice... The songs are pretty. The lights are gorgeous... The cookies taste good. The trees all shimmer... The carolers all sing. The jingle bells jingle... The snowflakes sparkle. The stockings are filled... The bows are placed just so. The smiles are many... The giving is a joy. The stores are full of laughter... The frost forms on the ground. The candles are lit... The ornaments are hung. The wreaths go on doors... The sleds go down the hills. All is well... But is it really? A man lives on the street, He cannot hear the carols. A child lies in bed. Sick without much hope. A woman has no money, No gifts to give away. Someone's heart is crying, For someone to lend an ear. Someone's heart is breaking, From a loved one's unkind word. A light goes out as a father leaves, His children crying, scared and alone. Sorrow is buried within the shadows, For no one else to see. The darkness descends like a cloud, But no one pays heed. They're busy wrapping gifts, Busy singing songs. They're busy buying trees, Busy throwing snow. They're busy eating meals, While some go without. They're busy with themselves, While forgetting someone else. Where is the joy? Where is the peace? Where is the meaning of this Christmas day? Has everyone forgotten? Doesn't anyone care? About the child in a manger? The one they call Christ? I see a tiny manger scene, Lit up in the store window. It makes a pretty decoration, For another shopper passing by. But do they know the meaning? Do they know the love? Do they know God loves the world? Do they know that baby is His Son? Does the weeping mother know that she is loved? Does the angry father know that he is wrong? Does the sick child have a hope in the joy? Do the crying children know who Jesus is? Does the homeless man know he can be saved? Busy with presents, The world passes by. That child in a manger, Who lived to die on a cross, Goes unnoticed, As those in despair continue to weep. The real meaning of Christmas is not the gifts, The toys, The songs, The pretty, twinkling lights. The real meaning of Christmas isn't Santa Claus. It isn't wrapped in paper, Or stuffed down in a stocking. The real meaning of Christmas, Is the birth of our Lord. Jesus Christ who came to save the world. He lived and died so we might have peace. He lived and died so we might have joy. To celebrate Christmas is a happy occasion. But let's not forget, that babe in a manger. Let's not forget those who do not know. We can remember the tiny baby Jesus, But what good is that knowledge, When we give a wrapped box, Instead of the Good News? What good is that knowledge. When we turn a blind eye, Or a deaf ear on the sorrow? Let's not forget the true meaning of Christmas. Let's not forget Jesus our Lord. Let's not forget to give the gift of knowledge, To those who need the comfort, To those who need the love. Let Christ show within your life, Let Him live within your heart. May your Christmas be filled with peace and joy, As we remember... The true meaning of it all. December 05 So Much More To It Than ThatA small ceramic manger scene, With gleaming lights grabs my eye. Every thing arranged so perfectly, I couldn’t pass it by. Baby Jesus in the middle, With Mary by His side. Joseph stood right close to them, Looking down on them with pride. The shepherds were there too, Along with all their sheep. Cows and horses laid in the barn, Calm and quiet - peacefully. Jesus smiled up from His crib, Crudely made with straw and hay. He looked up at everyone, King of Kings, born that day. What a pretty manger scene… But was there more to it than that? I bent down a little closer, To study what I saw. He was made impeccably, I couldn’t see a flaw. Those tiny gentle feet of His, Would one day walk the earth. One day they’d walk the dusty road, Proving their great worth. They’d walk into the temple, They’d be honored with perfume. They’d tread atop the water, Carry Him, His whole life through. They’d walk Him up that dreaded hill, To the cross on high. They’d be nailed to that cross, Spit upon with dirt and lies. The tiny feet in the manger scene… There was so much more to it than that. I looked down at His smooth head, Too pretty to even touch. One day it would be big and strong, His mind filled with very much. One day He’d show His wisdom, Loving with all His might. He’d share the wondrous story, Of peace, salvation and light. His head would rest upon the wood, Of that cross, cruel with pain. A crown of thorns thrust in His flesh, Instead of you, He’d take the blame. That small head in the manger scene… There was so much more to it than that. I reached out to touch the hands, That shimmered in the light. One day they’d make a lame man walk, One day they’d give a blind man sight, They’d make abundant food for all, They’d heal a wounded heart. They’d hold a child close to Him, Death and life they would part. One day those hands would suffer too, Nails driven through His skin. Hung from that cross so brutally, To take my place - to cover my sin. Those little hands in the manger scene… There was so much more to it than that. I see a babe wrapped in cloths, A perfect scene to bring a smile. But when I see why He was born, To give His love, to save my life… I find my eyes filled with tears, Remembering faults I’ve built. Because of me, He was killed. Because of love, He took my guilt. This small babe before me now, Was only the beginning. The most precious gift given to us, Lived…died…and rose again. It all began at the manger scene… But there’s so much more to it than that. |
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