Three hymns of Christmas praise

My eyes were thick with darkness, the world a mystery.

No colors to paint life’s pictures, no light to set me free.

Imagine the joy that seized my soul when over my eyes I felt his hands.

Now when they speak of lilies and trees, I finally understand.

In wonder I bow my head in thanks for the Man who was first a stranger.

And to think He once came quietly, asleep in a lowly manger.

Their jeers and taunts were unrelenting; my sins did they deride.

As if they somehow knew my soul, and the pain I carried inside.

But rocks fell from their calloused hands, His words piercing each hardened heart.

Alone, my tears fell as confession, He lifted me to a new and holy start.

In reverence I speak His sacred name, as often as I am able.

Do they know this Healer was once a child—born in a humble stable?

I watched in anguish, as they pierced his hands, and nailed him to a tree.

The price was steep, too much to bear for a mother who watched him roam free.

And to a disciple, he charged my care, ever aware of those around him.

Then from a tomb, he loosed death’s hold, and resurrection’s trumpets sounded.

Each captive soul is now set free; a sacred gift for all mankind.

I can still remember the babe asleep, as I pressed his heart to mine.

Hosanna! Hosanna! Glory to God.

With heaven’s choir we sing.

Once swaddled for only the shepherds to see,

the Child is now earth’s King.

-hb mercy

Artwork by T. Sutton