Tis the Season, this scene we'll see,
In window, yard, most everywhere,
Love fills hearts, so set it free,
Let the world, and God, know that we care:
Merry Christmas, Our King is Near
By Arley Steinhour 120312
In Five B. C., or was it Three,
A Newborn boy, lay in a manger,
In Swaddling cloth, and straw he be,
God's gift, to save many-a-Sinful-stranger.
His mother, though married, still virgin,
her carpenter husband, would 'set her aside,'
Till a Night Vision, addressed adultery chagrin,
Later children be theirs, certified.
The call for a Census, caused them feel anxious,
Almost term-fulfillment, they'd go to be counted,
'Bethlehem, Son of David,' Joseph to pay Taxes,
But, the timing was bad, and travail countermanded.
The village was small, with no rooms in a home,
But, clean stall in barn, Baby-bed in the manger,
The best they could do, with child soon to be born,
King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Born just like a stranger.
Why, might I wonder, King born, not come fighting,
Making everyone wait, while he grew up having fun,
Some knew he was somewhere, nails they were biting,
Decades went by, with not Roman's on the run.
'About' Thirty years, when Jesus stepped into water,
To an unkempt man, wearing leather, and Baptizing,
John, looked up from dunking, saw Jesus not falter,
That John wanted Jesus' Baptism, not too surprising.
'No,' Jesus said, 'Let things be as thing need to be,
He only had three years, before being hung on a tree.'
Lord, I come, not to praise all the things I can see,
But to praise you were Born, Lived, Died, Resurrected,
For this Sinful Stranger, me.