Here we are at Christmas time,
caught in the tussle of Giving-time.
With scarce a thought to Bethlehem,
"Please pass the bread and now the ham."
Should not our thoughts be on the One,
the gift of God, His own true Son?
Should not we see what He has done,
what work He did when I was won?
Should I not share the wondrous gift
of God's own Son who spanned my rift,
The one true gift from God above,
a sacrifice, a gift of love?
Yes, I must speak and tell the tale
of precious feet, of hands and nail
He died for me when I was lost,
no way can I perceive the cost.
He brought me home and made me whole.
Yes, even me, this lump of coal.
He gave me life when I was dead,
the Son of God, the one who bled.
So, now I say let's be like Him
and shine our light, no longer dim.
For is it not the Father's will,
onward now and giving still,
To give our life unselfishly,
our Father's heart, His constant plea!