This morning I went to church per usual. Sunday, after all. Hurrying, to gather some goodies for my Sunday School Kiddos. Hurrying, my morning resistant daughter out the door on time...which usually is an exercise in frustration for all parties. Hurrying to attend last minute details that always seem to rear their little heads on Sunday morning, like gremlins.
Peace. Be still.
We rush into church. Surprise! You mean don't have to be in the nursery this Sunday? I couldn't recall, so figured, just better pop in and check! Oh, very good, we can just slip quietly into service.
Stop....the hurrying.
Peace be still.
It is good to give thanks to the Lord.
Here I am on Sunday.
Another week behind me.
Another week ahead.
Stop.
Worship Him and Know He is God.
Then, in a moment, I am brought to tears by one of the most eloquently written Christmas Hymns. I was reminded of how much I need that little one who came in the manger. Today. The words ministered to my soul. Again. My heart is humbled. My hurrying exchanged for humility, grace, and awe. Again. The powerful history of Truth, entering time.The power of the amazing truth shared in a beautiful song.
Sing it anew today, will you?
What child is this who laid to rest
On Mary's lap is sleeping
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet
While shepherds watch are keeping
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him laud
The babe, the son of Mary
Why lies he in such mean estate
Where ox and ass are feeding
Good Christian fear, for sinners here
The silent Word is pleading
So bring Him incense, gold, and myrrh
Come peasant king to own Him
The King of kings, salvation brings
Let loving hearts enthrone Him
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him laud
The babe, the son of Mary
"What Child Is This?" by William C. Dix
Dawn blogs daily about faith, trust and pixie dust @Beneath the Surface: Breath of Faith
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