My husband John has written some amazing poems. He graciously agreed to let me share the following one, today.
It’s one of my favorites, portraying a more realistic concept of the birth of Christ than what most of our Christmas cards and programs depict.
More of his poems can be found here
Palestinian rednecks, society’s repugnant rejects with reputations so revolting they were
forbidden to testify in courts of law.
Unlikely witnesses, chosen by God to catch a glimpse of His Glory
And testify in the world’s court to the birth of His Son.
Magicians from Iraq
Hated and feared by Jews then as much as now.
Following stars, not controlling, simply confessing a king is born.
Signs engraved in the expanding explosive universe.
Trajectories targeted together and mapped out by the Creator Designer billions of years ago,
So that ants walking on this speck of dust could look to the heavens and know
That God, not Hallmark, cared enough to send the very best.
Puppet King, arrogant, pompous,
Filled with greed and lust for power.
Matched only by his fear.
Fear that what he had stolen from others would be ripped from his own hands
By someone more wicked and crafty than himself.
Having killed his wife and three of his sons, unjustified paranoia,
Caesar said, “It’s safer to be Herod’s pig than his son.”
Nothing would stop his blood-stained conscience from killing dozens of babes
In hope of destroying the coming Messiah.
Ruler of the Empire
Satisfying his every whim,
Conducting a world-wide census to appease his desires for more power and wealth.
All the time, not knowing that the Real Emperor was channeling Caesar’s greed–disrupting the schedule of everyone, simply to guarantee the birthplace of this coming
A just man, but just a man.
Torn between his love and pain.
Unwilling to find revenge,
Equally unwilling to parent someone else’s supposed one-night stand.
He accepted the unacceptable. Believed the unbelievable,
And faded back into anonymity
Faithfully playing out his bit part to honor Divinity.
A young woman mature in faith far beyond her years,
Accepting the Eternal Seed that would fill millions of hearts with hope and joy,
And hers with pain.
Unfairly maligned, providing what he could.
Even his nice rooms being more like a stable than a Holiday Inn.
Helping satisfy God’s sense of humor and irony:
The Savior and King of the Universe, born in a stable.