The Bridge

 

 

In the valley of decision

How long I could not tell

The walls were steep beside me

I knew I was not doing well

 

Many people were around me

They struggled like I did

And when I reached out to them

It appeared they ran and hid

 

A few would talk to me

I could see they meant well

But even in their best efforts

My fears they did not quell

 

It seemed I’d reached a bridge

And yet there was nothing there

I asked how could this be

For it was really weird

 

It had become very misty

A huge fog covered the place

Of the people who were with me

I couldn’t see a single face

 

This bridge was unlike any

That I’d ever had to cross

To do so on my own

I knew that I would be lost

 

But there I was and alone

Standing on a ridge

And barely visible before me

There was this peculiar bridge

 

I saw no rails to hold to

Its way was straight and narrow

And to both of its sides

The drop was far from shallow

 

There was no possible way

That one would get across

For the slightest contrary wind

Off that bridge he’d be tossed

 

What to do was the question

My mind had posed to me

As I stood transfixed and pondered

The solution to my quandary

 

I couldn’t go back the road I came

That time had passed away

It was as though if you permit me

Trying to bring back yesterday

 

It’s impossible there’s no doubt

To go back the way one came

Life doesn’t have that mechanism

To go back and come again

 

 

Understood backwards but lived forward

Is the way someone put it

So if that’s what Satan offers

It’s a most depressing trick

 

I could continue on my way

A certain fall from off the ridge

Or I could take the other choice

And attempt to cross the bridge

 

Well, I chose the bridge

Or better the bridge chose me

And as I called for help to cross over

That help came instantly

 

Two nailed scarred hands reached out

And held me by my hand

Come on my child a voice had said

This is your Father’s plan

 

I am still walking that bridge

My hand is in the Master’s hand

Faith is the rails on either side

That leads to the promise land

 

Stewart Russell © January 2018

 

A Sunday Christmas

 

 

Just a mere week away

We’ll be celebrating Christmas Day,

This year will be somewhat different

As it will fall on a Sunday.

 

Sunday carries a more spiritual focus

Than any other day in the week

And compared to Monday thru’ Saturday

There are fewer people on the street.

 

Of course, this is not as pronounced

As it was in years gone by

When stores and shops were closed

And not a soul could buy.

 

When Christmas fell on a Sunday

It was particularly different,

A lot of the activity was scaled down

As this was considered as reverent.

 

Of course, two holidays followed

And people made up for lost time

As throughout the Monday and Tuesday

Celebration was on their mind.

 

This is not likely to happen

This coming Christmas Sunday

For quite a lot has changed over the years

And there is a totally different way.

 

To the party animal

It won’t make the slightest difference

For they will revel in their festivities

Until they are totally spent.

 

Some churches will change a bit

From the early service to a later one

And their services may exceed two hours

Before from church they’re gone.

 

Work will recommence on Wednesday

But not much will be done

For it will take a while to readjust

After three days of fun.

 

 

Such is the fallout

When Christmas Day falls on a Sunday

And given COVID-19’s lessened affect

This year is likely to be a big affair.

 

But in whatever way you celebrate

And in all the things you do,

Spare a thought for the Christ child

Who left heaven for me and for you.

 

Though no longer a babe in a manger

This is what Christ had to become

To save humanity from the curse

Regarding what our fore-parents had done.

 

For having disobeyed God’s directive

They chose to go Satan’s way

And as simplistic as that may seem,

Out of it came the first Christmas Day.

 

For while shepherds kept watch

Over their sheep that night

There came from that heavenly host

An exceeding bright light.

 

 

Angels heralded the Saviour’s birth

To startled shepherds filled with fear

And they hurried to the animal stall

Which must have been quite near.

 

There on that first Christmas Day

Lay the Saviour in a manger of hay

And what a joy it was for the shepherds

That very first Christmas Day.

 

Was it a Sunday Christmas?

Perhaps, it could have been

But far more import than the day

Was the manger scene.

 

For God was with man

And with man had come to dwell

And thus, to both shepherds and kings

The good news did tell.

 

For on to you is born this day

In the city of David

A Saviour,

Who is Christ the Lord!

 

And this should be a sign to all

Even in our time,

That Jesus, the Saviour who came,

Came to pay off Adam’s fine.

 

 

A life we could not live,

A death we could not pay,

My Savior and your Saviour paid

From that first Christmas Day.

 

For ‘tis there the journey began

As he executed the Father’s plan

To bring “so great salvation”

To fallen man.

 

And so, I recall the words

Of that glorious refrain

When Jesus left heaven’s splendor

And to wretched man came.

 

“He came from heaven to earth

To show the way,

From the earth to the cross

My debt to pay.

 

From the cross to the grave,

From the grave to the sky,

Lord,

I lift your name on high!”

 

May we lift the name higher still

Of the one who came that Christmas,

The name by which I was saved!

That name is Jesus!

 

Stewart Russell © December 18, 2022

 

The Myth and the Gift

One was fat

And somewhat rotund

Just about the mid-section

Quite a belly was found

One was slim

And walked everywhere

And though he was hated

For all he cared

One differentiated

Between the naughty and nice

The other for all

Became a sacrifice

One focuses on children

And gifts he brings to them

The other sees all as children

And died to save from sin

One prefers reindeer

And the cold night air

That’s when he makes deliveries

At a certain time each year

One makes no distinction

Be it morning, noon or night

He is always delivering

People from their plight

One slips down the chimney

With beard as white as snow

And thereby exits again

With nothing black to show

One came down from above

He was the spotless lamb

He gave his life for one and all

This was the Father’s plan

One leaves his gift

At the foot of a tree

The other was God’s gift

On a tree at Calvary

  

One is the perennial myth

About a workshop and elves

The other is the truth

Told in a book on our shelves

One is about a season

That comes once a year

The other is for all seasons

An all year affair

The former is a myth

Enjoying universal approval

The latter is a life saving truth

And its resistance is global

One brings satisfaction

Of the fleeting kind

The other satisfies and sanctifies

The soul and the mind

One is expected to return

On every Christmas Eve night

When the other returns

It will be the Christians’ delight

By now you should know

Who these two persons are

The world gravitates to one

The other is less popular

There is no comparison

Between the myth and the Gift

It’s like chalk and cheese

If you catch my drift

I trust that as you read

You would have been stirred

And would boldly say right now

It’s the Gift I prefer

By the world’s glitz and glamour

No longer be drawn away

Accept Jesus into your heart

Do it my friend without delay

Stewart Russell © May 2018