January

January

It is weeks past our Christmas;
While driving I see
In gutters, by trash cans
The naked fir tree.

Abandoned, now useless
With tinsel no more.
The wreaths have been taken
Off most every door.

When trash day comes 'round
On each street I see
Bags of old wrapping
And boxes empty.

At some houses with children
I see thrown-out toys
Replaced by the newer
For those girls and boy.

For me it seems sad now
The winter goes on.
What's been accomplished
Since the season is gone?

In all of those houses,
Do they know the Lord?
Or with their Christmas
They soon all get bored?

Do they know the meanings
Beneath all the trim,
That Jesus Christ came
To draw men to Him?

Do they only see glitter?
It's all over now?
Do they see Jesus
Through the presents somehow?

Is Christ at the center
Of all of their joy?
Are they celebrating
The birth of that boy?

And what about my life?
Is Christ viewed as king?
And what of the words
Of the carols I sing?

Do I really mean them?
Did I mouth just words?
Have I acted upon them
Or are they for the birds?

What's my reaction
When Christmas is nigh?
Do I focus on Christ
Who came here to die?

Have I told all the neighbors
Of God's only Son
Who came here to die,
That the battle is won?

Or have I really hidden
'Neath glitter and trim
With visions of presents
Instead of Him?

Lord, as winter drags on
And seasons go by,
Let me remember
Why you came to die.

Let my priorities
Be all rearranged.
And may others say next year:
She sure has changed.

Lord, let that change be
In tune with your Book,
Whether I'm mothering
Or trying to cook.

May this year be better
Than the old one gone by.
May I reflect you
'Til the day I die.

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Lord, I Need You