Several years ago, I was reading the poem, The Night Before Christmas, and it got me to thinking about the real night before Christmas. That’s when I picked up my “pen” (laptop) and began scribbling (you know what I mean) out this short redo of that famous poem. I am no poet, but have a love of poetry and rhythm and words. I also have no rhythm. Sorry! But I have words and like to play with them.
First some thoughts.
Maybe it’s my over the top imagination, but I love how much God seems to like symbolism, and I think the Christmas story is full of it. Bethlehem was the location where the temple sheep were pastured. I love the idea that the true lamb of God was born in a stable that likely was used to house temple sheep, and that the first to hear of His birth were the shepherds charged with the care of those sheep!
While I realize no one knows what time of year Jesus was born, Christmas does fall on (or close to) the longest night of the year. I think that is pretty cool, too.
I can never think of Christmas, with the Christ Child in the manger, without thinking of why that child was in such a lowly birth place. He came to live, to teach, to die, to rise, conquer and save! Herod tried to destroy Him then, society continues to try to remove Him. Yet Christ reigns.
I love Christmas!

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the town,

Joseph searched for a bed, but none could be found.

And anxiously watching and guiding with care,

A heavenly angel led Joseph to where

The virgin in labor could birth her God-son.

The Word in the flesh,  salvation had come.

In the cool of the cave, the back of this stable,

‘midst lambs for the temple, they rigged up a cradle.

Then out on the hillside a bright light did shatter

The midnight discussions of things men thought mattered.

The shepherds fell prostrate, trembling with dread

Afraid that the angels would strike them all dead.

“Fear not!”  said an angel,  “I bring you good news!

Great joy to all people, (not just to you Jews.)

This day is born the Christ, Lord and Savior.

You’ll find him swaddled, asleep in a manger.

The darkest night of the year now gave way

To a fullness of light much brighter than day

The hosts of the angels burst forth with their praises

Singing,  “Glory to God, goodwill to all races!”

Leaping, and crying and laughing with joy

The shepherds took off in search of the boy.

Born helpless, impoverished, in the lowliest place,

Was the almighty, the ruler, creator of Space.

 

They were the first Christians, these shepherds who

Believed what the angels said to be true.

Followed by wisemen from far away nations.

Leading the way, blessing  all generations.

Wise men will seek him, to worship and praise

Fools try to destroy him, their own do they raze.

Born King of kings, he could not be halted

To victory, with death on a cross, was exalted.

Halleluiah, he’s risen, sing joy to the world!

The story of Christmas to all must be told!

Worthy is he, the lamb that was slain,

He purchased our pardon, Halleluiah!  He reigns!