Unto Us a Son is Given

Given, not lent,
And not withdrawn - once sent,
This Infant of mankind, this One,
Is still the little welcome Son.

New every year,
New born and newly dear,
He comes with tidings and a song,
The ages long, the ages long;

Even as the cold
Keen winter grows not old,
As childhood is fresh, foreseen,
And spring in the familiar green.

Sudden as sweet
Come the expected feet.
All joy is young, and new all art,
And He, too, whom we have by heart.


by Alice Meynell,  1847-1922


Merry Christmas.  This year Christmas week was a bit different than most.  Most of our family got quite sick.  As I was sitting on the couch barely able to talk or think, I said in jest,  "Where is the Christmas cheer?"  Most Christmases we are busy cooking, caroling, and planning surprises for the children, but this year we were fixing flu tea and filling the vaporizers and reading to sick children.  So it was quite different this year, but it made me think about all those who are suffering while others are merrymaking. The answer to my question is from our Christmas play this year. "Christmas is not a time or a place."  I knew the answer when I asked it.  Rather, Christmas is a reality to be embraced, that God loves us so much that He became one of us and dwelt among us.  He came hidden as a little Babe, born in a cave.  He is gentle, and He gently calls us to Himself.  He invites us to be friends.  So we rejoice even when we are in various trials.

The Advent Kiss

Ever since Adam walked with God
     In the cool of the evening -
          Hand in hand perhaps;
Human hearts have yearned to know Him
     As that intimate friend -
          Holding them closely.

So He came again, not to walk,
     But to be held in our arms -
          Helpless and quiet;
Showing us the way to know Him
     by allowing our lips to
          Kiss the Face of God.


by Nathan Dunlap
2nd Sunday of Advent, Dec. 9, 2007


Note:  A few years ago my husband wrote this poem for a Christmas card of the Madonna and Child titled 'Kissing the Face of God'.  As I think on the Incarnation of God become man, one can only marvel at such Divine Love, becoming an infant born in poverty in a remote cave in Bethlehem.    

An Offering to Thee

So transform me, O Lord,
   That my life may be
   An offering to Thee,
As Christ has made
   An offering to me.

Work in me and make me whole;
Cleanse my heart, make pure my soul.

So transform me, O Lord,
   That my life may be
   An offering to Thee,
As Christ has made
   An offering to me.

Consecrate my cup inside;
With Thee, O Christ, I will abide.

So transform me, O Lord,
   That my life may be
   An offering to Thee,
As Christ has made
   An offering to me.

My death shall be as fire or ice;
Thy grace, Thy peace, Thy love will suffice.

So transform me, O Lord,
   That my life may be
   An offering to Thee,
As Christ has made
   An offering to me.

 Julie Dunlap  11-27-1012,  St. Augustine Cathedral