With the craziness of upcoming mid-terms and a cold giving me terrible headaches, I just now realized it was Monday… which means an encouraging post!
Tonight, I will be sharing a poem I have written recently in preparation for Christmas. (Christmas is in 10 days!!)
Born to Die
As Christmastime draws near, it brings focus on the love so dear that was born in the hay to live, die, and save.
Our Savior was born in a dirty manger, and to the dark, selfish world, He was only a mere stranger.
He did not come as the expected King, but instead was born to a virgin teen.
“His name will be Jesus,” the angel Gabriel said, and so Mary named Him as she kissed His head.
The newborn baby was laid in the straw as Mary and Joseph sat in awe.
He was born in a stable yet He created the world, and He came to save with His fingers unfurled.
The Savior, the King was in a feeding trough, and all we could do was to look and scoff.
The selfless King was born to die, with “It is finished” as His last living cry.
He died on a cross to take our sin, and rose three days later, the battle He did win.
He loved us so much that He gave up His life to cleanse us of our sin, to take away strife.
That little baby was Jesus our King, forever and ever His glories we shall sing.