Since Christmas day is nearly here, with you a story I will share. The other day I met a friend.
“There is no peace on earth,” he said.
“For him no longer drums we play, but drums of war awake each day. Our gifts to Christ we rarely bring. With hollow words, those songs we sing. Today the baby we ignore, hang mistletoe above the door. We’ve crucified the day of light and hope for things brought in the night.”
I tried to stop him ere more he spoke, for here on earth there still is hope. The joy of Christmas oft will spread when his Nativity is read; the miracle of virgin birth is more than Santa’s presents’ worth. Consumed by what his eyes could see, he looked at me dismayed. He couldn’t understand me, he thought the birth of Christ waylaid. When the truth is really opposite: nothing will bar the Son. I urged for him to celebrate with me the coming one.
“The night is dark; there is no star,” my unhopeful friend exclaimed. “The angels must be off afar, no glories here proclaimed.” I asked him of the holly and the ivy that was sung. What did he know about it, or were his stockings all that hung? He stared at me without a sound, how silently he lie. I said that faith will hold the door, then he began to cry.
“I have sinned and doubt I had that God will soon prevail. Nothing can withstand His love, a mighty blowing gale.”
So I ask for to you sing along with me this merry season. Work as one to right the wrong and restore the holy reason. Leave your laden shopping cart and make straight to Bethlehem. A Savior’s born to cleanse your heart, the greatest gift is given.
I know this sentiment is shared aloud most every single year, but that is no excuse to malign the need for cheer. Grow a pair tree; get it done, spread the Christmas joy. There is really no excuse, no need for acting coy. It’s the duty of our faith to strive to change the globe. Even if the dent is small, we’ll loosen Wal-Mart’s hold. I’m sick of Christian apathy and joining with the crowd. It’s time to sing the carols and scream the truth out loud. Christ is born and that is why we get a little break. Scrooge Santa, elves and reindeer too, the day my Lord will take. I’m getting rather incensed, let gold and myrrh content. I’ll go with Jesus’ presence, his perfection that was sent. Yule be sorry should you choose to ignore the Savior’s cradle. Lords may leap and ladies dance, but all to no avail.
God is not dead, nor does he sleep, as my favorite carol goes. His loving act should touch you deep, warm amid the winter’s snow.
Please, celebrate your stockings off.