Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Countdown to Christmas/Advent (10/23/08)
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TITLE: My Mind's Muddled Mix | Previous Challenge Entry
By Colin Swann
10/26/08 -
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Christmas should be a meaningful time but I'm often drawn away by the enchanting draw of Xmas excess and the beguiling stampedes for commodity chattels, that quickly suck me into the banal, and away from you.
The imperative needs of others and my own desire to eagerly join them in surfeiting, at this celebratory time, somberly fails you. Christmas has its numerous memories. But you were born to die and I often forget that at this time. Lord, I will endeavor to follow your story more closely from your cradle to your grave; it's always my loss when I overlook you and covet the dross experiences of the Yuletide.
You stand at windows looking in. People's doors are locked – some even barred. It is the 'Inn' again – there is no room – you must find companionship were you can at this time. Prison doors are always open to you – no windows are needed by you there - for you walk different corridors to us. Help me follow after you.
Frothy white beards and gifts and rowdy rejoicing at I know not what. Lord be patient when I err and follow the wind – emptiness is always close at hand – only you can satisfy – so why do I search in parched out places where you never go. Help my walk and search for you this Christmastide. Teach me where I can find and walk with you.
I see you soothing the troubled brow of those who have no hope of this season's jollity. Let me join the faithful ones that become you in their serving them. Let me be a blessing bringing hope of eternal life to those fast dying. Let me be food to those who roam aimlessly the streets and scratch at spent food cans on dump heaps for their next meal – may I be faithful in giving life's gift to these.
I see you nursing the orphaned child. You know the depths of desolation at being deserted and left alone. Mending broken hearts is your true rejoicing. Standing with the poor is your domain.
May I not pass by on the other side- but follow you down dark lanes where no one else will go, following the same 'star' that led the Magi to your Light.
My only hope is you. I need to climb that mountain. Let me find you in my ascending to the place where your life's tale starts. Was it a royal bed that you Babe lay? - or rushes of a great one gone before? – nay it is a poor boy's tale, a birth where no one else would lay – a royal birth among the hay.
Give me time Lord to get things right. It must be now. Let this year be my finding. Leader lead me to the truth of what you long for at this birthday's time.
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