A Strange Tree

 

 

 

It was a Christmas tree

In the shape of a cross

As though beckoning life’s traveler,

The weary and lost.

 

A red ribbon hung

From its spread-eagled beam

And its colour was brown,

Not the usual green.

 

It stood out among

Some other Christmas trees

And it attracted more attention

Than all of these.

 

There were no bells or balls

And no star on the top,

No candy cane or tinsel

Nothing from that lot.

 

 

But it had an appeal

That was unmistakably clear,

Jesus came that first Christmas

For a cross to bear.

 

The ribbons on the beam

Were the blood from his hands

Resulting from those nails

That were bored in his palms.

 

The single light

Where the two beams crossed

Was the light of God’s love

Showing sinners the cross.

 

 

I guess such a tree

Does not fit this festive season

But Jesus came to earth

For this very reason.

 

So, somewhere on your tree,

For a cross find a space,

At the top where you put your star

That would be a good place.

 

Christmas is about a cross

And less about a Christmas tree,

See the blood from his head and hands

That flowed for you and me.

 

And then you will see

The cross is not out of place,

Especially upon the Christmas tree

For it you must find a space.

 

 

On your tree this Christmas

For the cross please make space,

Give it star position at the top

For there is no better place.

 

Stewart Russell © December 12, 2021

 

 

But A Moment

I wish I didn’t have to die

But if Jesus tarries I must

So I must prepare to leave here

After all of the hoorah and fuss.

There’s just one way we come

But several in which we go

But why am I telling you this

When you already know?

We do not know the time

We have on this terrestrial plain

But however short or long it is

It is a mix of pleasure and pain.

There are the highs and lows

The joys and the sorrows,

The certainty of the present

And the uncertainty of tomorrow.

There’re many valleys to traverse

And many mountains to climb,

Some memories will be fleeting

And some will cling to the mind.

A sordid mix we’ll encounter

But many precious souls too

And depending on the imbalance,

This could shape our worldview.

A tilt towards a creative God

Or an incline towards evolution,

A hope when this life has passed

Or nothingness and dissolution.

We agree, whatever our worldview

That we are not here forever

But however long our sojourn,

The best should be our endeavour.

An uplifting philosophy is necessary

And not the poisonous type,

A compassionate, caring individual

And not of mere emotional hype.

  

Demonstrating the love of Christ

And not given to promissory talk,

But following the example of Jesus

And engaging a meaningful walk.

This present life is but a moment

A very fleeting moment at that

And relative to all of time,

This should be an obvious fact.

From the cradle to the grave

That’s the journey initiated at birth

And though a few reach one hundred,

We all go the way of the earth.

An inevitable return to the dust

The material from which we came,

The end of life as we now know it

Interred in the nether domain.

Awaiting a coming resurrection

Of both the saved and the lost:

The former would have died in Christ

The latter forsook the cross.

One’s life may be just a moment

A mere dot on the segment of time

But one’s eternal destiny is settled

Depending on the state of one’s mind.

A mind that was set on Christ

Or one that was decidedly otherwise:

The former to everlasting paradise

The latter to his eternal demise.

Life is a moment to procure salvation  

An opportunity to come to Christ,

A chance to accept God’s saving grace

And Christ substitutionary sacrifice.

Dying for the saint is a gateway

At the end of our sojourn here

And the joy of this present life

Cannot be compared to the joy over there.

Stewart Russell © August 2018