“Sister, I think it’s time we prepare.”
She’s at it again--I just don’t care.
“The message of Christmas centers on Christ.”
Oh no,here comes her unwanted advice.
“Decorative things, these give us pleasure,
But God’s gift of love, that is the treasure.
Dear sister, I love you and speak most sincere,
You miss the point of Christmas each year.”
“Not today, please, I haven’t the time,”
My shooing arms spoke to her in mime.
Slump shouldered now, quietly departing,
Leaving me to finish what I had been starting.
Unpacking the box labeled “the manger”,
I held the babe I’d mistreated--a stranger.
My disappointed sibling neared the door.
I just had agendas and nothing more.
I looked at her, my vision now blurring,
Fuzzy feelings inside suddenly stirring.
“Wait!” I blurted--she turned in surprise
And noticed the sadness drip from my eyes.
“What is it?” she said in her soft spoken voice.
“I think it‘s time I make the right choice.”
She smiled and the old weathered lines in her face
Became more pronounced as she showed me His grace.
On my behalf she now bowed her head,
She closed her eyes, her whispers said,
“Help her dear Lord, your advent is near,
Help her experience Christmas this year.”
We glanced at the boxes piled in a heap
A different heart knew--that work would keep.”
We went to the kitchen, I brewed us some tea,
Luke: chapters one and two, she read to me.
My heart was reborn through those Bible pages
Like so many others down through the ages.
This Christmas morn I’ll experience anew
God’s wondrous love for me and for you.
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