The Christmas Rose

In the depths of harshest winter, the Christmas Rose will bloom.

Crimson vibrancy of life against a bitter frost.

Though the world around be cold, she yet holds a tender warmth.

Her gentle petals ever softened in ethereal Grace.

From Heaven must she come, for entwined with frozen earth, what nourishment or comfort could she hope to find?

Though earth is meant to nourish her, she comes to nourish earth.

This sweet Rose that, born at Christmas, God bestows as gift.

A bright symbol of His love, her sweet aroma fills the night.

Wafting gently through the air as she falls fast asleep.

Having blessed the world but once for all, she returns to the One who formed her.

With Love to You

I felt Your song of love for me on a dazzling winter’s night,

And as Your breath swept through me, my heart impassioned took to flight.

I could sense that Life was moving as it had in days of old,

As though in me You were sharing Your creation’s tale extolled.

The great mystery of our origin all at once You did reveal,

And while overcome with rapture, still the peace I had was real.

As the dawn arose on Christmas Eve, so too did Your gentle hands

To bid flower petals bloom as a sign of Your great plans.

The vibrancy of crimson set against the crystal snow

Even now runs through my mind—the greatest beauty I shall know.

The sweet joy so young, so fleeting, stayed still hidden from my eyes,

Oh, had I but known surrender, I might not have let it die.

But, lo, just as in the Garden, in my world there was a foe

Waiting patiently to steal the breath that upon me You’d bestowed.

And it bid me take the poison that would part me thence from Thee

Causing my blood to run cold as though taken from the tree

That had stolen from so many the Life coursing from the Vine.

My small branch was thus torn from it and I knew the fault was mine.

Then in anguish I lay bleeding from the place where Life had come.

“Has there ever been such cruelty?” I cried as I came undone.

And yet even in my death, Your quiet answer came to me,

As You made me to remember the sorrow of Your majesty.

In my palm, You placed the bread and You gave to me the wine

That would be my true salvation and restore my life to Thine.

“Child, this is My blood and body. You must eat and drink it now,

And please know this above all: I’ve promised never to allow

The darkness to ever withhold from Me that which I have long possessed.

I am yours and you are Mine. So now let your heart be at rest.

I knew everything about you before I formed you in the womb.

Did you truly think that, for this, I would not have granted room?

Even now, My song of Love is being written for your ears,

May it care for you and comfort you, washing o’er your darkest fears.

For the Life you thought you’d lost is at this moment in My arms.

She is dancing, she is laughing—among the Rainbow and the Star.”

Christ Jesus, Keeper of Love

Christ Jesus, Keeper of Love—exchange our hearts for Yours. You’ve asked us to love You, and this alone reveals the tragedy of our condition. What should, of every order given in all the annals of time, have been least burdensome to follow—has utterly confounded us.

You’ve asked us to treat all others as we would have them treat us—seemingly simple enough, since we share the plight of all humanity. Yet, still we strive to sustain ourselves—no matter the cost to our neighbors.

You’ve asked us to love each other in the same way You have loved us—Dear God, show us how! Teach us how such a thing can ever be possible.

We need You. Please, come to us—and in this very moment, conform us to Your image. Irrevocably consume and let us die to ourselves—that we might know Life for the very first time.

Who Are You?

Who are you that makes the sun to shine and the moon to cast its gleam? Who are you that sways the waters blue, composing a cradle for life to teem?

Who are you that gives the rose its scent, commanding the dew to crown it in splendor? Who tells the doe to hide in flora, making way for nativity tender?

Who are you that called us forth from dust, bestowing your breath and bidding us trust?

Providing our shade ‘neath your towering trees, until one of them threw us in shame to our knees.

Now, lo! Do we see you spinning a robe, to cover and comfort and shield us from cold? Who are you, we ask, that would do such a thing for we who have fallen and made your heart sting?

Who are you with hands so calloused and worn, yet smiling so sweetly upon the forlorn?

Your face so familiar, yet strange to behold—who are you whose friendship is worth more than gold?

Who are you that cries all alone in the dark, who asks more than anything never to part from the source of all wisdom and glory and love—lifting your eyes to the vastness above?

Who are you with arms open wide in such pain? These arms meant for holding now carry the stain of crimson transgression, but how could this be? You’re hurt for our crimes while we are set free.

Who are you whose death has given us life? Who are you whose triumph has ended our strife?

Oh please, you must tell us, for we long to know. Who are you that loves us? We cherish you so.

 

Celestial Dance

In dreams, one night, I traversed a cosmic ballroom—unmatched in opulence and charm. Every passage, arbor, and column contrived to hold my gaze as I stood perplexed before divinity. Every god and goddess known appeared to grace the dance floor. From Aphrodite to Vishnu, the tapestry of holiness unwound before my eyes. A gala of the gods, I thought. A bal masque of supernatural glory—how is it that I should be here? 

Bemused and somewhat frightened, I hastened through the hall—my dizzied head unwittingly keeping time to ethereal twirls. But amid the commotion, my gaze abruptly set upon a captivating figure standing alone in the recess. The spinning stopped. The room stood still. And then there was nothing. Nothing save his piercing eyes on mine. Nothing save to come to him.

Slowly and deftly, his eyes led my feet toward him, ’til finally I stood in his reach—knowing not why. Was it the intensity in his stare? The kindness in his smile that had drawn me near him? Maybe, I thought. But as I paused to look back upon the heavenly scene unfolding, I couldn’t help but wonder something else. Maybe it’s because of all of them, he is the one who most resembles myself. 

Suddenly, his hand beneath my chin swept me away from my thoughts—and my eyes returned again to him. “Dance with Me,” he said.

Oh, what else could I do? What else could I do but yield forever to his requests?

I gave him my hand and surrendered to his warm embrace, returning his smile as we joined the throng of celestial dancers. Clumsy and stiff though I am, not once did he allow my feet to flounder—not once did he let me fall. On the contrary, in his arms, I was the image of poise and serenity. A miracle, I whispered aloud.

Then, something recalled me, again, to his eyes—his eyes which pervaded my soul. I searched deeper within their intensity—and found there ultimate suffering. Our dancing ceased as I looked once more at our entwined hands. There were scars at his wrists. I could scarcely believe it. A god with scars? I looked away and tried to mask my shock. But the scars didn’t end at his wrists. No matter where on his body I set my eyes, they seemed to be everywhere. Forgetting myself, I reached up and traced a line across his head.

At once, he caught my hand and lowered it slowly toward his heart. He gently placed it there to let me feel its beating… The resonance overwhelmed me, and then, at last, I knew. He’s human, I whispered in my mind. My God has a heartbeat. 

I struggled in vain to give voice to my feelings. In vain because He knew them already.

“It stopped once for you,” He tenderly whispered—as though He were breathing His very Life into me. “That’s why you’re here with Me now.”

I could bear it no longer. My whole body trembled as my tears spilled forth. I could feel everything He’d felt. I looked up and saw that His eyes were wet, too. Then, falling to the floor, I asked Him, “Oh, God, what do You wish? Please, tell me what You want. I’ll do anything.” 

“I love you,” He said as He reached for my hands. “Will you dance with Me?” 

 

 

Tree of Knowledge

It doesn’t seem like much now—this life-deprived and wilted thing standing still in the loneliest place on earth.

Oh, why did we ever want it?

Is it because we were afraid to miss out on something special—some strange, elusive secret that we couldn’t help but know?

Were we so entranced with longing for the one thing withheld that we sneered at all we’d been given?

Was it not enough to be sheltered in our innocence, clinging to Another in absolute trust?

And, what of Love? Surely, Love was worth more than an untasted fruit.

For all the knowledge we’ve gained, we still seem to have more questions than answers. Why?

Evil haunts our hearts, as our minds crowd with false piety.

We could’ve had Everything, but we had to know everything.

Oh, that we could take it back—just take it back and run into His arms!

Like joyful children, that we could play unbridled in the kingdom of Purity!

It doesn’t seem like much now—this life-deprived and wilted thing standing still in the loneliest place on earth.

So, tell me—why do we still reach for its hollow branches?