‘Tis the Season…Again – Ruth Johnson

‘Tis the Season…Again

Nov 10, 2019, 11:07 AM
Ruth Johnson


Only in You, my Lord,
Do I find complete peace.
Only in You, my Lord,
Do I attend Your feast.
If You had not invited me,
I could not attend,
You sent Your dear
And trusted Son
The invitations in His hands.
They took those hands
And pierced them,
The ones outside the door,
He was just extending
Life forevermore.

My Father sent Me to you
To invite you to come home
He knows you are sad and weary
With nowhere good to roam.
I AM here to let you know
I have already walked that path
I can lead you all the way home,
I AM the Only One Who can.
They chased Me and mocked Me
Called Me Satan’s spawn,
They ran Me down and slayed Me
Though I had done nothing wrong.
I AM still standing here
Holding out my hands
Because I Love you people
And need you to understand.
I AM not an Indian giver
And neither is Our Father
We gave this earth to you
But with Us you do not bother.
You walk right by Me,
You do not even see Me
Holding out My hand
The invitation in it,
You run to the cosmetics stand.
You walk right by Me,
You do not even see Me
Sleeping in a gutter,
You must rush inside the store
For more cream, sugar and butter.
You walk right by Me
As you hurry to your car,
It is very cold outside
And you want to stop at a bar.
I AM the One
Standing on the corner
The One with the cardboard sign
But Mine doesn’t say
I will work for food,
You drive right by me,
Splash slush on My feet
As you are thinking I AM a kook,
Then how long to cook the meat?
The children are asleep
When you park in your garage
Dreaming of sugar plums
And Santa at the door.
Gifts gifts gifts! Gifts galore!
It is time to indulge yourselves!
Time once more!
You did not notice Me
Standing outside,
My palms pressed
To your windowpane,
A tear in My eye,
You simply hung your family’s
Over the fireplace,
Then said a prayer to Santa
You would not receive a lump of coal,
Then ate some cookies,
Drank some milk,
To show the children
Santa had really been there.
Then you sit by the fire,
Drinking your brandy,
I stand outside your door,
You wonder if you
Have bought enough candy.
Then you fill the stockings
For each family member,
Place the gifts from Santa
Under the tree.
The tree is dead,
Covered with lights,
The Lord of Light
Is on your stoop.
You gaze at the tree
You do not see Me
I turn and walk down the steps
After leaving an invitation
Tucked inside your screen door,
You turn off the lights
And go to bed.

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