Snap of December wind,
blindness from drifting flake,
redness of skin exposed
seasonal shoppers long
for respite in the glow
of heated hearths at home
after their to-and-fro
journeys in car or van,
seeking for treasures rare—
wreaths, jewelry, video games,
socks, thermal underwear—
in shops and urban malls,
cozy or warehouse-bleak,
finding the right surprise
under their trees to sneak,
twinkling of backup lights
in slushy parking lots,
jangling of Salv-o bells,
barrels from Toys for Tots,
reindeer and stocking stuff,
lists from siblings and kids
naming each fad desire,
antifreeze, icy skids
out on the dreamy streets
decked since Thanksgiving day
with holly, lights and elves,
crèches along the way
between vanity faire
and that celestial towne
never more pie-in-sky
than when Noel rolls ‘round:
these scenes and millions more
crowd in to draw our gaze
away from plans divine,
from God’s redemptive maze
followed by saints in ways
miraculous and mild
till angels sang to hail
Mary’s thrice-holy child.
Still, I suppose it’s fit
that Jesus’ birth must fight
through weather, bother, greed,
to greet us in the night;
His coming wasn’t meant
to outdo pleasure’s blast,
but Mary’s little Lamb,
to solve our sinful past,
had to sneak into town
past Satan’s watchful eye
and live a life un-lost,
then lay it down to die.
He had to sacrifice,
for no man could restore
righteousness to our race—
depraved right to the core;
God’s character demands
guilt bearers must be cursed,
but—praise Him!—grace allows
the last to enter first.
While man ignored his God
and wandered long in sin,
the Shepherd-Lamb prepared
to call transgressors in
where thieves will never steal
His precious sheep away;
and so the call went out
as still it does today.
Christ Jesus, God in flesh,
sends out this gracious call
to trust Him and obey
this Child who gave His all;
He offers as a gift
forgiveness fair and free;
On Him the curse was cast,
first meant for you and me.
He offers life anew
for any who will bow
his heart and mind and will
and love this Savior now.
This Babe of Bethlehem
became Golgotha’s Lamb;
His blood has paid the price
for sinners’ guilt and shame.
But, risen, as He said,
His Christmas call goes out:
“Don’t miss Me, or you’ll miss
what Yuletide’s all about!”
MNA (Have a blessed Christmas!)
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