A PRAYER FOR YOU AT CHRISTMAS

A PRAYER FOR 

YOU AT CHRISTMAS

On a silent, holy night

Came Him who is Love and Light
He who was in a manger born
Is Jesus Christ - God's Son.

He brought peace, joy, and love
Showering men with grace from above
He came to teach us how to live
And how blessed it is to give.

So as we celebrate His birth
This is what I sincerely pray:
That Christ will rule in your heart
May you know Him better each day.

I pray you always remember
Every day of this December
That Jesus Christ is the reason,
The reason for the season.

And the angel said unto them, fear not: for behold,I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.
Luke 2 vs 10-11(KJV)

Now That Is Peace

Small snowflakes float on easy breeze -
without an effort, find the trees.
Now that is peace.

They rest upon the solid branch,
upon the roof of humble ranch.
Now that is peace.

They settle on a rail fence
without a thought, without suspense.
Now that is peace.

They blanket softly, all around,
upon the leaves upon the ground.
Now that is peace.

The Christmas snow reflects all light
from its decor with such delight.
Now that is peace.

More snowflakes settle. They're unheard -
as Heaven speaks without a word.
Now that is peace.

The stars above, they sparkle too -
a gift from God, to me, to you.
Now that is peace.

Without the pomp and circumstance,
the scenic beauty is romance.
Now that is peace.

A babe in manger once was born -
without the fanfare, without horn.
Now that is peace.

Through virgin love, through virgin birth -
A blanket grace for all on earth.
Now that is peace. 

So why this blanket when it snows?
So why this gift? The Christian knows.
Now that is peace.

A Christmas Thought

The memories of Christmas past,
of music, friendships sworn to last;
Of stories, presents, songs and rhymes,
and hopeful thoughts of future times -- 

These all conspire to contradict
the seeming lack of Christmas script;
the absent smiles, the hectic pace,
The angst of now forgotten grace.

They linger in my memory -- 
A vague remembrance of the mirth; 
But mirth with depth, and faithful friends
Whose love portrayed their priceless worth. 

Those memories of Christmas past
Were always filled with lights and sounds
Of music, joy, and images
of Christ whose grace could know no bounds.

But now it seems that these are gone:
heartfelt prayers of real concern,
Scents and colors of the trees,
the warmth and glow when candles burn. 

There's little music now, it seems,
Reminding us of manger scenes,
An angel with his clarion call:
"A Savior's born, God's gift to all."

Be not deceived by missing signs
of Jesus' birth amid the fray
Of hurried shoppers, harried crowds
and everyone who's lost their way.

The angel's call is clear and true:
"The Savior comes with life for you."
Grasp on to Him, accept His gift
And blessed you'll be with life anew!

The Night Before Christmas

The Night Before Christmas
Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
in a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney with presents to give
and to see just who in this home did live.
As I looked all about, a strange sight did I did see...
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand.
On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.
With medals and badges, awards of all kind,
a sobering thought soon came to my mind.
For this house was different, unlike any I'd seen.
This was the home of a U.S. Marine.
I'd heard stories about them, I had to see more,
so I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone.
Curled up on the floor of his one bedroom home.
He seemed so gentle, his face so serene.
Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine.
Was this the hero of whom I'd just read?
Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?
His head was clean shaven, his face weathered tan.
I soon understood this was more than a man.
For I realized the families that I saw that night,
owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.
Soon around the nation, the children would play,
and grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year,
because of Marines like this one lying here.
I couldn't help wonder how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas eve in a land far from home.
Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye.
I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.
He must have awoken, for I heard a rough voice,
"Santa, don't cry. This is my choice.
I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more.
My life is my God, my Country, my Corps."
With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep.
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.
I watched him for hours, so silent and still.
I noticed he shivered from the cold night’s chill.
So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
and covered this Marine from his toes to his head.
Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold,
with an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.
And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
and for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside.
I didn't want to leave him, so quiet in the night,
this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
But half asleep he rolled over, and in a voice clean and pure, said,
"Carry on Santa. It's Christmas Day, all secure."
One look at my watch and I knew he was right.
Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi, and goodnight

Do Not Touch

Life is about do's and don'ts
And oh how I wish I had
Then tears fall hopelessly
Makes a heart heavy and sad.

We worry then fret the future
But God planned the now
Even the worst of sinners
Will fall before Him and bow.

Do not touch the worry
For one thing that is certain
God has written every line
Of the story behind the curtain.

Gentle laughter fills the air
Where sorrow cannot be found
Inexplicable joy will come
Embracing without a sound.

A lake of endless wonder
Our tears have set the stage
Your story pours from His heart
People gather of every age.

Do not touch the worry
Before you loved ones stand
God the Father invited them
See the ticket in their hand?

The curtain begins to open
Then every eye you meet
Stunned by the knowledge
That God had saved their seat.

Now the standing ovation
He loves us oh so much
His words speaking tenderly
The worry, "Do Not Touch."

Mighty One, The

I sit and stare at water there,

beyond the palm where lake is calm
and try to write the words I'm thinking of.
But often times my words lack rhymes
as fingers shake and pencils break
while making sense of Christ's most precious love.

I don't know why I often cry
at such a price of sacrifice.
Though innocent, the Man of God obeyed.
With no remorse, He stayed the course
and took the tip of wicked whip,
then carried cross because He was betrayed.

He didn't quit. He carried it
without restraint, without complaint,
up rugged path to hill where all would be.
And without fail, He took a nail -
another one. They still weren't done...
And then was raised for all the world to see.

The pain was such it mattered much
and time was short for His escort -
those angels waiting anxiously to aid.
For all along, ten thousand strong 
were in His care and waiting there.
But it would be His call was never made.

From cross He heard another's word -
another soul that He made whole.
It mattered not, the next cross he was from.
So it would be that grace was free
if we believe and always cleave
to Him who knows our hearts and wants to come.

So much unsaid with Jesus dead.
Though buried deep, they couldn't keep
our Savior from yet one more miracle.
So off His toes, He then arose
despite our sin to live again -
above the clouds. This wasn't typical.

I pictured sky in my mind's eye
and watched in awe at what I saw
and still envision how it all could be.
As I look back at all the flack
that Jesus took in God's Good Book
I just can't understand His love for me.

My stare is blank at water's bank,
beyond the fog I see a bog
as I forget all that I'm thinking of.
Now as before I tremble more.
In any case, I now erase
my empty words of Christ's most precious love.

My words are wrong. They don't belong.
My ev'ry word just seems absurd!
They don't do justice for all He has done!
Thoughts disappear. I shed a tear -
and say a prayer that isn't fair -
from little me - to God, the Mighty One