Merry Christmas Dear Reader,
After he had heard the
prayer
The angel gently set
it free
And followed it to the
father's child
In a faraway city
And there the girl in
desperation
Was searching through
the sky
For a star that she
could wish upon
But stars were in
short supply
And the only light
that she could see
There shining all
alone
Was a neon sign on an
old bar
And so on this, she
wished she was home
The idea of home is one that it took me a long time to
define. Growing up my abode never felt
like home. There was no fun in the
dysfunction. I live alone now and the
place I live is an abode but not a home.
It is not lost on me that we call those who live in our
parks and bus stops homeless. Those people
have great need for shelter and care but there are many who have shelter who
are still homeless. There is something
about being “home” that holds promise.
There is something about not feeling at home that is always present.
The needs of those without a home is vital to our
participation in Christmas. We can help
those in need if we choose to do so. We
can help neighbors and strangers. We can
keep the promise of Christmas as we are meant to do. We can change this world even though it is
not our home.
The other piece of this is that we think too much of this
world as home. We are sojourners. We are strangers passing through on our way
back to God. We have something in us
that constantly seeks home. Home is
only with God. It is, therefore,
reasonable that Christmas is when we yearn for home the most. It is in this day that God is the most with
us.
Se today we share the story of the subject of the father’s
prayer. The lost “ornament” wants to go
home. It is Christmas Eve. Inside of this night it is easier to
believe.
Old
City Bar - Trans-Siberian Orchestra
Now every light can be
a star
Just depends on where
you are
And the distance that
you're looking
Past the places you
have been
And the dreams you’ve
left behind
And the dreams you’ve
left within
In an old city bar
That is never too far
From the places that gather
The dreams that have been
In the safety of night
With its old neon light
It beckons to strangers
And they always come in
And the snow it was falling
The neon was calling
The music was low
And the night
Christmas Eve
And here was the danger
That even with strangers
Inside of this night
It's easier to believe
Then the door opened wide
And a child came inside
That no one in the bar
Had seen there before
And he asked did we know
That outside in the snow
That someone was lost
Standing outside our door
Then the bartender gazed
Through the smoke and the haze
Through the window and ice
To a corner streetlight
Where standing alone
By a broken pay phone
Was a girl the child said
Could no longer get home
And the snow it was falling
The neon was calling
The bartender turned
And said, “Not that I care
But how would you know this?”
The child said “I've noticed
If one could be home
They'd be all ready there”
Then the bartender came out from behind the bar
And in all of his life he was never that far
And he did something else that he thought no one saw
When he took all the cash from the register draw
Then he followed the child to the girl ‘cross the street
And we watched from the bar as they started to speak
Then he called for a cab and he said, “J.F.K.”
Put the girl in the cab and the cab drove away
And we saw in his hand
That the cash was all gone
From the light that she had
Wished upon
If you want to arrange it
This world you can change it
If we could somehow make this
Christmas thing last
By helping a neighbor
Or even a stranger
And to know who needs help
You need only just ask
Then he looked for the child
But the child wasn't there
Just the wind and the snow
Waltzing dreams through the air
So he walked back inside
Somehow different I think
For the rest of the night
No one paid for a drink
And the cynics will say
That some neighborhood kid
Wandered in on some bums
In the world where they hid
But they weren't there
So they couldn't see
By an old neon star
On that, night, Christmas Eve
When the snow it was falling
The neon was calling
And in case you should wonder
In case you should care
Why we're on our own
Never went home
On that night of all nights
We were already there
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer
who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home
owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure
store.”
(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
This song really show's how miricals happen every day, and yes how people just dismiss them and try to make an excuse for everything else.
ReplyDeleteLook past the smoke and see the miricals of Christ.