The Joy of Christmas



It’s December once again;
Excitement fills the air.
Folks have started reading
The Christmas story to replay.

I see Joseph and Mary
Trudge through the busy paths;
In order to be counted
In Caesar’s figures and facts.

Soon Mary was to be delivered
Of that Baby foretold.
Emmanuel, His name;
They were now to behold.

But no room was in sight;
Just an old musty shed
Of hay and dirty trough,
I could almost smell with dread.

The reading I follow:
My heart aches with a question,
“Where is the joy
In such dismal occasion?”

Here’s Messiah, indeed,
But not in a palace.
Oh, such poverty!
Yet, angels sang in chorus.

The scene changes now,
And what do I see?
This Only Begotten Son
Beaten in agony.

Mournfully I ask,
“Why this Promised King?”
Heaven answered back:
“For the joy set before Him.”

The story unfolds
As Christ’s tomb rolled away.
Great joy sprang up
As night turned to day.

Again, I see the stable
On that first Christmas morn.
The Joy it held for me;
Christ my Savior was born.

‘Tis the season, it’s true,
Of unspeakable joy.
Yes, Christmas is here!
In Christ, I rejoice.


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