A Poem by Lydia Kinne
They had waited.
Through four hundred years of deafening silence.
A weary nation under Roman rule -
Hoping for light to break through the darkness that surrounded them.
She was a teenage girl,
Who grew up hearing of the prophecies.
Yet never suspecting that she herself
Would carry within her the fulfillment of those prophecies.
He was a man devoted and waiting –
Waiting for the consolation of all their hopes and fears.
A man to whom it was revealed at long last
In the form of a tiny baby held by his poor parents come to the temple.
And she – an old woman without a husband some seventy years -
Her eyes beheld the temple day after day,
Her heart longed for the embodiment of peace,
And that day she touched Him – she rejoiced over Him – she thanked God.
God the faithful.
God the One who writes poetry
In starlight, in mangers, in the poor and lowly.
The One who whispered peace to earth through His Son.
They looked for a conquering King
Riding on a horse, leading a nation in victory.
They were confused by the cries of a baby –
Disbelieving of this form of the promised Messiah.
Yet He exploded their expectations.
He chose the opposite of all the world honored.
And in so doing, gave them exactly what they needed –
Life eternal and hope for the life here on earth.
He broke the stillness with the angel song.
He was the light of the world, the ultimate Gift –
He gave us a reason to love and to celebrate –
He completed the story of God’s redemption.
And this – this is why we sing with joyful hearts.
This is why we light the candles, wrap the gifts,
Hold our loved ones near, celebrate the season,
And share the story.
Jesus our Messiah –
Ring the bells because He came down from Heaven above.
He slipped into our flesh and walked this earth,
And because He came, history would never be the same.