Christmas


Marlene and I have recently discovered the music of Sara Groves. For some reason, her music style and her words touch us at the point of our need. I picked up a copy of one of her CD’s at the local Christian book store last night. Marlene beat me getting up this morning. When I came downstairs, I discovered her with tears running down her cheeks, her Bible open in front of her and the new CD playing in the background.

 

One of the numbers on our CD is called “Cave of Adullum.” It speaks of the mystery of the anointing oil and the power that can turn a shepherd into a king. When I first heard Ms. Groves sing this, I marveled at her portrayal of this strategic point in King David’s life. What must it have been like to be a fugitive and remembering the anointing?

 

Maybe, because it’s the Christmas season; suddenly I remembered another king, another shepherd, and another anointing. Oh the mystery of God that can take the King of Kings out of the Ivory Palaces and anoint him to be the Great Shepherd of his Sheep.

 

The King of Kings, lay thus in lowly manger;

In all our trials, born to be our friend.

 

It is the anointing that changes us. Some of us are humbled by that oil and some are exalted. All of us are equipped in the process to be a sharer of the blessing of Almighty God. Equipped to undo burdens, release captives, and provide the oil of joy to displace a spirit of heaviness.

 

May the blessings of Jesus be on each of you this holiday season.

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