Christmas Gift

We are stuffed, not just fed,
clothes to wear, roof overhead.
Christmas comes, begs us heed
ones without even basic need.

And why this call as year winds down
to reach across our world and town?
Could we not better serve God’s way
by living Christmas every day?

THAT, my friend, is just the plan
Nicholas hoped we’d understand.
Winter’s pitch, pierced by light,
opens hope, beckons right.

Gifts from “haves” to “have nots” spread,
one beggar offering another bread.
Hand that set the world in motion
longs for love, seeks devotion.

Box the crèche, store the lights
but don’t forget in darkest nights
star appeared, drawing wildest wild
to Immanuel, the God-flesh child.

Seasons come, seasons go
but always remember the gift we know;
‘twill open us as we opened it
transforming us until we’re fit.

No burnt offerings, ritual pyre
but hearts aflame, love afire,
seeing Christ in every face,
sharing love, unleashing grace.

© 2009 Todd Jenkins

Christmas Eve

You know the day is bound to be long
When it’s called an “eve” at sunrise.
Long it is for many folks in varied ways.

Long for those whose hopes are set
On simple magic of chimneys, sleigh,
Airborne reindeer, gifts galore.

Long for those whose plans are such
To stave off disappointment from
Such childlike dreams of abundance;

Working and saving for eleven months;
Decorating and preparing for weeks;
Outlasting excitement to assemble.

Long for those little ones whose hopes
Are beaten down 24/7 by birth, circumstance
But can’t help hoping one more time.

Longer still for beleaguered parents from
The have-not side of life who must figure out
How to explain tomorrow’s emptiness.

Longing is a deeper long for those whose pain
Is heightened by the absence of a life-long love
Or knowledge that this year may be the last.

Into this long and longing day that
Moves toward darkness all too soon,
A candle flicker moves toward life.

For those whose patience births a faith,
Nurturing a flame that warms a hope,
Single candle turns to tongues of fire.

Light, warmth, grace all overflow;
Gold, frankincense, myrrh arrive
Joy is stirred deep in the soul!

© 2008 Todd Jenkins