There is a time for every lot,
a season for each purpose beneath heaven wrought.
Each season tempered with His grace,
encased in Love's steadfast embrace,
Though dark my sight and blind my ways,
My God in Love traced out my days.
Foresaw, foreloved, foreknew and drew,
and guided ways before I knew;
O
rdained and marked with loving care,
each step I took,
each breath of air:
From puerile child, to callow youth,
to measured man, He led in truth.
But how was it He came to me?
How was it that my life was freed?
Midst time and space with infinite Grace,
He entered time and space—and human race—
To rescue helpless sinners steeped in need.
In history stepped while our kind slept,
He came with promises He kept—
Frail tent of clay He did accept,
With blood and sweat and tears He wept,
But perfectly He kept each law and precept!
This is Christmas that we celebrate!
Not lights, though bright,
Nor presents given,
It is the Gift of Heaven
For which we decorate.
His transcendent Life in earthly frame then tented,
Frailty cloaked His power—with lack and weakness scented—
Christmas came to earth with humbled glory rented.
It's not the lights, though bright,
It's not the gifts, though given,
It is the God of Right who gave that night
A gift of Love inestimable from Heaven.
Thus I'm
equipped my way to wend,
Since God has placed me here with
friends;
Friends who walk this path to Heav'n,
Inspire and love—with sins
forgiven—
And all according to God's gracious
plan:
We're pastored by a pious, learnèd
man.
We then midst trial, down aisle, o'er mile and pile,
midst smile then guile, and all the while,
the traces of His love upon our dial.
Through confusion, exclusion, and occlusion,
with effusion* as prolusion**—
Divine intrusion as conclusion.
The inexorable hand of special grace
defined my steps, kept safe my space,
and led me safe to Him—
And will bring me safe to heaven.
- D. Benning
* effusion— an act of talking or writing in an unrestrained or heartfelt way.
** prolusion— a preliminary action or event; a prelude.
