A Christmas Meditation

The season to be jolly has come round
Too little space to let our joy resound
For it should be our strength throughout the year
Not come and go in one small snowy blur.

God's gift of Jesus does not go away
Like fragile flowers at the end of May
He is the Rose that blooms forever more,
From Sharon's pastures to the farthest shore.

Come celebrate by thanking Him today
Who loved us so, facing His Father's plea,
He volunteered to die for you and me.

We scarcely of ourselves can last a day

Without some sin infecting all our way.
For those too proud to yield their selfish lives,
The graves gape wide and nights are filled with knives;

Their end is silence or deep, black, despair

Where howls of horror rend the pitchy air
And so I cast my lot and faith on Thee

My priceless Lord, whose blood transfuses me.

Gene Pinkney 12/23/03