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
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