It's always interesting for a Canadian in an African country at Christmas, dust replaces snow, and heat replaces cold, though everyonce in a while I might stick my head in the freezer to not forget my heritage! It's also a tough time for the church, we kind of walk on eggshells, some believe that celebrating Christmas at church makes us look like the Catholics, who of course take Mary and the others to a new level of worship where they shouldn't be (well that worshipped at all!) But I am excited at least because this year all the Atacora region churches are meeting in Boukoumbe, Northwest of here, to celebrate the season and the thirteenth Sabbath together. Should be fun and a blessed time. Here are some Christmas peoms I wrote for your enjoyment and blessing!
"The Christmas Spirit"
I was looking one day for the Christmas Spirit,
I wondered exactly where I’d find it,
I thought about a song to sing,
So I went to the library, looking up Crosby, Bing,
Nothing there, how about Sinatra, Frank,
But again the answer pretty blank.
So onto Google I went,
Looked through holiday videos until I was spent,
No aid from Charlie Brown to the Winnie the Pooh,
Not even Dr. Seuss could help, oh boo hoo!
So I looked at some true stories,
Looking for perhaps some hidden treasuries,
There was one about allies and axis fighting away,
Who stopped for a while on Christmas Day,
There were stories of help for the poor,
Or miracles at a local department store,
All were quite touching and nice,
It was a great holiday slice,
But nothing seemed to hold a solution,
What was it really about was the question.
So I tried one last thing,
Maybe this would with truth ring,
I reached up high on the shelf for my Bible,
I once learned that God was always able,
Could He answer this puzzling query?
Or would He shuffle away in a hurry?
The was sadly very dusty,
Of its words my knowledge quite rusty,
Yet I hoped the reason was in there,
The real answers it had to bear.
I leafed all the pages through,
Until my eyes fell on the book of Matthew,
And there I cried tears of joy,
As I rediscovered what I had learned as a boy,.
The message was so crystal clear,
I knew God’s presence had drawn near,
Oh, the Christmas spirit is wrapped up in thus,
One simple word Emmanuel, “God with us.”
"The Homeless King"
There’s no home for the baby,
Not that His parents are lazy,
Or that they are a little crazy,
There just isn’t a place for the baby.
As of yet He’s actually not born,
But soon He will be here all forlorn,
Into a life of victory and scorn,
A real rose among thorns.
Knocking on ever inn door,
“Rooms!”, is the cry “Are no more!”
Not even a closest or a store,
No where to lay the head for a snore.
How can this thing be?
Now room for the King of Eternity,
So in a stable the shepherds will Him see,
The grand Savior of you and me.
It’s a different kind of King,
One for whom the angels sing,
For whose coming all the heavens ring,
Let us to Him always cling.
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