Real Christmas: A Poem

Christmas, a time filled with decorations,
candles and lights and ribbons and bows,
a time of great cheer, parties and toasts,
a time to wish peace on each boy and girl
of opening gifts and dinners galore.

Yet don't forget through the comings and goings
the real truth often veiled in the hustle and bustle.
Not the reindeer or Santa (though he's based on Saint Nick),
not Rudolph or Frosty or elves sprightly and quick.
Though these bring joy, there's joy deeper still...

Make no doubt about it,
Christmas is not wishful thinking.
Christ did come as an infant, a baby,
conceived in a real woman's womb,
the humble teenage virgin Mary.

He was born into our world
God in the flesh,
the awesome, glorious Lord,
made to be held and seen and heard--
light inaccessible breaking into the dark.

He was real, this God-man,
as real as you and me,
He ate and he breathed,
he hurt and he loved,
he bled and he died.

So remember on Christmas the truth of the day
Jesus came as a man, a babe born to die,
to save us from sin and he will come again.
Manage to pause for a moment or two
and remember the man who came here for you.