Twas the week before Christmas

It doesn't seem like Christmas is just a week away,
Not today.
All days seem somewhat similar, or dis-,
And so they are, for a "grown-up," that is.
They go on and on in a stream unbreakable
With expectations and demands unshakeable.
Life wasn't always so regimented
As to drive one to be nearly demented.
There was a childhood in everyone's past,
And for most it couldn't last.
Oh, not the immaturity, that's not what I mean,
But the sense of seeing which was once more keen.
The sense of seeing and of surprise
Gets lost in the transfer to "adult" eyes
And wonder is with worry and rush replaced
As we learn that no haste is waste.
So Christmas becomes another season
Filled less with wonder than with reason,
And we hurry and we count
As commitments mount,
And we rush and we fret
About what isn't done yet,
And we lose our breath and our peace
For this is grownupness--no time for release!
We push and we panic and we hope we won't be late;
We've got to dash and dash, and push away the hate
Of the guy who cut in front of us in any given line
And of the children weary who scream and whine
And we put on the right face
As we push the frenetic pace
Which never comes to a sane halt of quiet;
Don't try to deny it;
That's how it gets to be
As we all verge on seasonal insanity.
It isn't just grading or papers to write
That makes us lose sleep on these winter night
After night but the pace that we buy
And the stories we self-tell, those are why
Christmas can't come in just seven days--
We've run far too low on our stock of praise
In our haste and in our worry
Mostly what we've got is hurry
And praise takes time--a precious commodity
Whether in country or city community--
And we've used it  and gotten withdrawn
And now we are feeling quite put upon....
We cannot buy praise or thanks;
They don't draw interest in banks.
They come from a heart
At peace, quiet, in part
From not competing,
Not head beating
Against the nearest wall
For not being better than everyone or all.
Grace is what it takes to praise
And praise makes grace abound on days
When both seem in shortest supply
And for both, each, all, God is why.
He is reason enough for each rejoicement,
The Word who defines what the voice meant,
And goes beyond, and sweetly surrounds, protects,
Within whose confines we can connect
And find tranquility and content,
Finally whole, our hearts no longer rent.
For His is our peace and in His image we
Can find joy and harmony.
Then Christmas and Easter and all other days
Will find for us the norm is praise.
Circumstances be what they may,
Let joy resound both night and day.

[Written back in the late 1980s during graduate school]

Nothing He Cannot Understand

Sometimes we don't give God the credit He deserves for understanding what we experience. Incarnate yet sinless, we have a compassionate, comprehending Lord.

Nothing He Cannot Understand

We go through nothing He cannot understand--
Immortal, Eternal, Holy, Infinite, Immanuel--
God made Man, living the life of a man for
More than 30 years.
Scriptures tell us He was tempted in all ways as we are,
Yet without sin.
He knows what we face because He faced it too.
His temptations were greater than ours because
He never yielded to a one of them; none of us can say the same.
He knows the pain of the loss of loved ones to death.
He knows the pain of friends who turn out not to be friends.
He knows, and so when we cry out to Him in prayer,
Our words resonate with His holy heart.
Beyond knowing, He is all powerful to help us in whatever way help
Is right for us, when it is right for us.
His timing is perfect, for He is perfect.
Blessed Redeemer! Rock of Salvation and of Rest.

Hebrews 7:25: "Therefore He is able to save forever those who draw near to God through Him, since He always lives to make intercession for them."

Death Stalks Us All----thinking of all passings 2018

Death Stalks Us All

Death stalks us all
And has that right since Adam and Eve,
Whose sin caused God to grieve;

Whose sin caused God to give
His Only Begotten Son that we might live,
Freed from other consequences of our sin;
Yet Death will seem to sin,
Even taking those who believe;
But those who repent
To heaven will be sent
When Death comes.

Death stalks us all,
Yet cannot call
Apart from the time God has set,
Will not be met
With success,
With taking anyone
Whether won by the Son
Or left bereft.

Death has limits which God has drawn,
And One Day Death
Will no longer reign
But be conquered once and eternally,
Having been conquered once and eternally,
Will give up all power
Over men
And join those eternally lost
In hell's fire and eternity's cost.

Until then,
Death stalks us all