Delivered

Here I sit, Lord, patiently--with pen in hand
Praying for insight from You (on command)
(How to fit The One who took all our curses
And cram Him into a couple of verses?)

I dishonor You, Lord, if I covet your story
And somehow try to steal Your Glory
I’m sore afraid, Lord!  That I’m not up to the task
That I’ll fail yet again behind Poet’s mask.

“Good Tidings of Great Joy which shall be for ALL people!”
With cattle for choir and manger for steeple
You preached the Greatest Sermon that ever was heard
Yet you did it—in a stable—without saying a Word.

For unto us is born this day
God’s Greatest Gift we can never repay
Yet from mall to mall we aimlessly wander
When instead--like Mary--we should silently ponder

Great with Child she delivered a heavenly Light
So noble and true and pure and right
That no words have I that could possibly do justice
So humbly I say “Thank You!  He’s just perfect for us.”

© 2004 Linda Thacker