My Home Town

Well, it's Christmas Day. We have finally tied up all of the packages with bows and finished the baking and all of the other making and it's time to settle down and just look and listen, maybe read the paper, call some friends and family in far away places, watch the kids or grand kids playing with their new toys, maybe have one more piece of that fudge or fruit-cake.

What a crazy ride it is every year, just getting to this day, and then it is all over, and we put away the ornaments and take down the lights and forget about the baby Jesus until next year. I hope that's not the case with you. I hope that you will keep Jesus in your life through the winter and spring and through summer and fall. I hope that you will follow him all the way down the dusty road... through the Judean hills into Galilee and back again to Judea and then finally up to Jerusalem for Passover and out there to that lonely hill called Golgotha. I hope you will wait for him outside of that borrowed tomb and rejoice in his Resurrection! You can follow him through God's Word. If you read a few chapters every day you can read through the whole bible in a year. You can follow him in the Holy Spirit if you will believe in him and be obedient in christian baptism.You can follow him through Faith and fellowship with the body of Christ. You can follow him all of the way home, if you just choose to stay with him and follow him wherever he leads you, because if you follow him, he will lead you home... to the only true home that we have.

I wrote this poem one day after reading another poem, a much greater poem by a much greater poet. My humble poem was inspired by G.K. Chesterton's "House Of Christmas" (You can read his wonderful poem on my 12/9/12 post on this same blog). Christmas is about going home isn't it? Christmas isn't very joyful without home and hearth and loved ones near. Christmas is about being home. Ultimately, that's what this whole life that we live is about... finding a home. Chesterton says it so well:

To an open house in the evening,

Home shall all men come,

To an older place than Eden,

And a taller town than Rome.

To the end of the way of the wandering star,

To the things that cannot be and that are,

To the place where God was homeless,

And all men are at home.

 

The trick is figuring out how to get home again... how to find our way back home, to our "home town". The answer of course is simple, just follow Jesus. Simple, but not so easy... huh? Merry Chrstmas, y'all. Here's hoping and praying you find your way home thru the darkness. You're gonna need a light.

The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: They that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined. - Isaiah 9:2

 

MY HOME TOWN

 

In my hometown nobody’s homeless.

There’s rooms galore, everybody’s got jobs.

No orphans, no lonely, no mobs.

 

In my hometown no one goes hungry.

There’s feasts everyday, and sweets a plenty.

Nobody is in pain and nobody lies.

Nobody is bewildered and nobody cries.

 

There are no cops, cause there’s no robbers.

There’s no regulators, cause there’s no need.

Everyone lives in harmony,

No hatred, no lawsuits, no greed.

 

I aint never been there. I aint never seen it.

But I know there’s a place for me there.

My future is won, see I know the boss’s son.

His Word and his promise I bear.

 

Sounds pretty good, now don’t it?

Why don’t you come along?

I’ve got his word on it,

And he’ll never steer you wrong.

 

Don’t waste your time looking for it,

Because it’s a place beyond time and space.

It’s on a distant shore, in another land,

A place of majesty, grand.

 

There’s just one way to get there,

And it’s a long hard journey.

You can’t buy a ticket,

Nor can you work your way,

And even if you sold all you had,

The fare’s too much to pay.

 

The road is narrow and steep,

Rocky and rough, thru mists dark and deep.

A rough wooden cross marks the way.

It shows us the toll’s been paid.

There is no win without cost,

Our victory’s won thru his sacrifice made.

 

And we are to follow and bear our own crosses,

Planting them where we are told.

Helping our fellow along the way,

The weary, the young, and the old.

 

The fork to the left looks easier, straighter.

The fork to the right, less dangerous, lighter.

But keep to the narrow way,

Enter friend by the straight gate,

And you will win your prize one day.

 

One day, over a rise, beyond the last hill,

Steeples and spires in a golden vale,

And we will arrive at the gates of pearl,

Trumpets will blow, and banners unfurl,

Angels parading, legions of millions,

Creatures of wonder, heavenly minions,

Announcing our coming to the Lord’s host.

Where the meek rule, and the least are most.

Burdens will be lifted, backs unbending,

All weariness, pain and fear, ending.

And we will be clothed in robes of white,

Crowns will be placed,

Radiant, shining, cleansed in light.

 

And we will live by a glassy sea.

And God will wipe away our tears.

Eternal rapture it will be.

Forever in his presence near.

Together, forever, you and I.

Beyond the rainbows,

Beyond the sky,

Lies my hometown.

 

 

 

MJS

1/16/09