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“T’was the night before Christmas when all thro’ the house,”
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.”
This is the way Clement C. Moore’s poem reads;
It tells of St. Nick’s adventures on Christmas Eve.
Yet it was not Santa Claus who saved my soul,
Nor is it to St. Nick to whom my life is owed.
But it is to Jesus Christ, the Soon-Coming King
That I owe my life – my everything.
Let me share a different story with you,
It’s filled with adventure and presents too.
The hero is a child that was born to a virgin
Not a grander tale could be writ not even by Spurgeon!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On the night that Christmas was born, all through the land,
Herod’s foot soldiers hurried in bands.
They searched for a boy child whose birth was foretold:
“He’s to be heralded by angels,” said the prophets of old.
It all began with Mary who was but a humble girl:
A virtuous virgin called out from the world.
An angel did visit and impart to her the news,
“God has chosen you to bless and to be used!”
Astonished, but believing, she accepted the call,
Thus on her one day the Holy Spirit did fall.
She was left with an anointing and gifted his seed
One that would grow and fulfill the Father’s decree.
To save the world with his death and endure its shame:
Immanuel, God with us, was his chosen name.
Joseph, a righteous man, did not know what to do;
He was betrothed to the virgin and would not have her misused.
An angel came to visit him in a vision, in a dream,
“Divorce is not the answer! Things are not as they seem.
Your betrothed is pure; she is wholly undefiled.
God chose her to be blessed; in Him you can rely.”
Joseph heeded the angel and by the Spirit he was led
To take Mary unto him and so, they were wed.
Time passed, as it does, and a Roman census was called,
“People of Jerusalem must be counted, one and all!”
So to Bethlehem Judea Joseph and Mary went
Only to find there were no rooms to be let.
The couple was left no choice but to stay in a barn;
They slept with the animals in the inn-keepers yard.
It was on this night Mary went into travail
Bringing forth the child that all men would hail:
As Savior, as King – God’s gift to the world.
In a manger he was placed and God’s plans unfurled.
Instructed to flee on that very same night,
Joseph arose quickly taking his family in flight
Toward Egypt, a distant and foreign land -
Far away from Herod’s murderous bands!
In Ramah, Rachel was heard crying, weeping – forlorn
For all the two year old males and babes newly born,
Were slaughtered down to the very last one.
The story of the Christ had truly begun.
Herod finally died and the family returned
To Bethlehem Judea where little Jesus learned
All that a Hebrew child should come to know.
In faith and power he waxed strong and did grow.
For thirty-three years Jesus dwelt among men:
Preaching, baptizing and exhorting man to repent.
His purpose was to save the dying and lost;
To reconcile the world unto him at all cost.
His life was only part of the Father’s gift to us.
By his stripes and his pain; by the blood that he lost;
By his death he made it possible for us to be born again.
It was in exchange for his life that we were freed from sin!
This season when you’re sitting around a roaring fire,
Telling your little ones stories to inspire
Set aside ‘The Night before Christmas’ in favor of this:
‘The Night Christmas was born’ and all will be blessed.
© Rebecca C. Wilcox 2012
All Rights Reserved
