Merry Christmas, friends! My dear friend of many years sent me this poem that she wrote as a prayer in preparation for a big transition and said that I could share it on my website. You can check out her other writings and podcast here: https://daddyparables.press/

Carry me where I need to be,
Prepare me to be a blessing,
Wash the inside of the cup and dish that’s me,
Clean out every bitterness and fill me up with Your sweetness
That is not fake but is pure anointing oil!
For You they say have garments fragrant with Cassia,
That is cinnamon, the smell I think of as Christmas.
My Lord my Love, make me smell too,
From the inside out, sweet with You,
That all I come near may be blessed
By the fragrance of the Jesus-ness
That includes every aspect of Your shalom
As deep within me You make Your home!
Let there be a Christmassy, cinnamon-ny,
Jesus fragrance in me
Now and all through this fall and winter and holiday season,
More precious than the pumpkin spice everything that I left behind,
The fragrance of Your joy in my sacrifice.

Ding dong merrily on high!
In heaven the bells are ringing!
Ding dong merrily the skies
Are riven with angels singing
Gloria hosanna in excelsis!
Gloria hosanna in excelsis!
I am a baby to the angels
As all humanity is,
And we are still learning Object Permanence
That heaven is still there
When it plays peek-a-boo behind the veil
And out again.
We squeal with rapture
As babies do, whenever we see an angel
Or a glimpse of heaven, for we forget
That these things exist always, even when
They don’t jump out at us and yell ‘boo!’
We forget that the Lamb is ALWAYS on the throne,
That the song of ‘holy, holy, holy’ is always being sung,
That the angels’ praises are always roaring and thundering
Like the roar of mighty waters,
That the Father who began to be merry when
His Prodigal son came home is still partying
And the saints and angels are still dancing,
That the leaves for the healing of the nation are still growing
And the river flowing out from the throne is still flowing
Even now, even today, in my every weary and distracted moment,
That the angels who sang peace on earth and goodwill towards men
When heaven opened for them to play peek-a-boo with the shepherds
Are still singing now about Jesus being Immanuel with me.
Heaven is near, heaven is here, just behind the sky
Like a blue baby blanket behind which the mother hides
To say ‘peek-a-boo I see you!’ and make her baby giggle,
Heaven is not hiding to make me miserable
But to make me giggle when it plays peek-a-boo again.