An old year ends. A new year starts.
Time marches on. And yet
we can’t help pondering the past
and choices we regret.
We grieve the times we failed to love
the way that Jesus would.
We rue the chances that we had
to do the things we should.
A listening ear. A warm embrace.
A word that shows we care.
These simple acts that have no cost
are priceless cause they’re rare.
Sadly the past cannot be changed.
We can’t undo what’s done.
We can, however, start anew.
A new year has begun!
Lord, there will be an empty place
at the Christmas table this year
and I’m not able to face it alone.
Please pass a second helping of Your grace.
I can’t seem to get enough of it these days.
The lights on the tree are all ablur
as I look through swollen eyes.
The carols catch in my throat.
Wise men and shepherds,
angels and stars,
Christmas cards, candles and gifts–
They all used to move me.
But this year I’m scarred
by wounds too fresh to heal.
And I’m scared by what I feel–
haunting memories,
good ones,
but regrets, too.
Too many tears.
Too few tissues.
Too many days in December.
And all because the one I love is dead.
And is my heart.
I’m so afraid of what still lies ahead.
Please remind me that Easter,
and all that it promises,
will soon be here.
Dear God, maybe then I can celebrate
the good tidings of Christmas
in spite of this empty chair.
Reds and greens blur into blues as
Christmas draws near.
Lights and music morph to black as
grief wrestles fear.
Silent night is not a carol.
Rather, it’s a constant peril
as a distant lonely sparrow
coaxes a tear.
In the darkness of depression,
day mimics night.
While my friends are celebrating,
I long for light.
Paralyzed and lacking feeling,
dizzied by my world that’s reeling,
desperate for a longed-for healing,
wrong disses right.
God in Heaven, hear my longings.
Draw near, I pray.
Free me from what holds me hostage
day after day.
In my anxious desperation,
be my safe and sure foundation.
Though I’m lost, be my salvation.
Show me the way.
tune: Ar Hyd Y Nos
In a world of war and hatred
peace is trumped by power’s hand.
Airstrikes in Ukraine and Gaza,
bloodshed in the Holy Land
mock “Joy to the World”
and much-loved carols.
How we long for what God’s planned.
In a world of pain and suffering,
refugees and children cry.
Homeless migrants beg for shelter.
Alley addicts use and die.
Haunting carols heard in churches
stalk the dreams of passersby.
In a world where truth is questioned
and our freedoms are at stake,
decency is oft abandoned
or deprived of “give and take.”
Still the carols play continually,
rousing us for goodness’ sake.
In a world in need of Christmas,
we are actors on a stage.
Lines we learned as little children
call for us to turn the page
and live out the love the carols
prophesied for every age.
There was a real-life Santa Claus
who lived quite long ago.
He was Bishop with a beard,
that grew as white as snow.
He loved the Lord (God’s people too).
He gave gifts to the poor.
He touched the world where e’er he went
with love and so much more.
And Nicholas became a saint,
based on the work he’d done.
So, on this day we sing his praise,
through Jesus Christ God’s Son.
My Rhymes and Reasons 