Jeremiah’s Christmas

Jer. 50:6

 

His cheeks are wet; a hot tear flows;

A grief quite real on an old seer’s face.

As crashing hordes dash to and fro.

“My people have forgotten their resting place.”

 

We celebrate the Lord of rest

With weary flesh, in this hectic race.

The prophet calls. Our brash world jests.

“My people have forgotten their resting place.”

 

The flashing lights; the blaring horns;

The shopping carts; hide our Lord’s sweet face.

We search for gold among life’s trash

“My people have forgotten their resting place.”

 

He came to bring a Sabbath rest.

He offers us a refreshing grace.

Unheeding all, we rush around.

“My people have forgotten their resting place.”

 

Come unto me you weary ones.

Who requires of you this frantic pace?

By quiet streams; in pastures green;

Find the Prince of Peace; find Your Resting place.

 

 

 

Jonas J. Borntreger

Christmas 2003

All rights reserved

Advertisements