5 days till Christmas

 

 

Five days till Christmas

And so much to do,

I am seriously far behind

How about you?

 

It is not the first time

I have been behind

But for Christmas 2024

I don’t really mind.

 

I am anticipating it

But not like before

And I notice the older I get

This happens more.

 

Windows to clean

And cupboards to clear

Of so much stuff generated

Over the past year.

 

The lights are up,

So far so good

And they are all working

Just as they should.

 

But so many things

That I still have to do

And at the rate I am going

I will not get through.

 

I am not bothered

Like I was last year

And whether I get to finish

I do not care.

 

I will still be happy

And of this I am sure,

Christmas means other things

Now I am old.

I most likely will eat

And enjoy myself

Paying close attention as I do so

To my health.

 

Overeating is out

And overdrinking too

And no kind of overindulgence

Or of abuse.

 

 

Five days to go

And this is a good time

To let the Christ of Christmas

Renew our mind.

 

Stewart Russell © December 19, 2024

 

Worship Christ the Lord

 

 

The shepherds heard the news

As they plied their trade,

Watching sheep was their job

They did both night and day.

 

Tidings of great joy

The angels said to them

And this the shepherds understood

Was in the town of Bethlehem.

 

 

They didn’t worship the angels

When they saw them appear

But as the Bible shows us clearly,

They were sore afraid.

 

The Bible does not say

They worshipped the baby Jesus

But we can assume that this occurred

Without unnecessary fuss.

 

The angel had said to them

“Which is Christ, the Lord,”

This in referencing the baby Jesus,

Who came to be the Saviour.

 

 

The wisemen saw a star

That was unlike any other,

Unlike the others it was slowly moving

And they decided to follow.

 

They didn’t worship the star

But merely followed its trail,

And the fact it led to Herod’s palace

Says it’s not a fairy tale.

 

Their worship was reserved

For the baby Jesus

And having left the palace they discovered

Herod they could not trust.

 

 

His worship was a setup

The baby Jesus to destroy

But rather than return to Herod

Another way they employed.

 

All of this is to say to us

Christmas need not be pagan,

Surely it isn’t so for the born again

Who worship Christ, God’s Son.

 

For he is Christ the Lord

Just as the angel said

And rather than worship Christmas

Worship Christ instead.

 

Use the opportunity, I plead,

To follow the shepherds’ lead

And spread this Gospel message

With like fervour and zeal.

 

 

 

For unto us was born that day

A Saviour, Christ the Lord,

And to God, the Son and Holy Spirit,

Worship we should accord.

 

And not to another:

We should worship the Lord God only

And Him only

Should we serve.

 

Stewart Russell © December 17, 2024

 

Christmas Baby

 

I am a Christmas baby

Regarding my birth

And please do not think

This was my first day on earth.

 

I was not born

On a Christmas day,

Oh no my cherished reader,

Not in that way.

 

Date and day

Is not important here

But the fact that I know

Brings me good cheer.

 

I am born again

Making me God’s child,

I dare to follow Jesus Christ

Meek and mild.

Jesus’ birth

On that first Christmas day

Opened my eyes to the fact

That he is the way.

 

And when I said yes

To God’s will and His way

I became a Christmas baby

From that very day.

 

It has nothing to do

With a festival

And what is more important,

It is not even seasonal.

 

It is all year round

In the country and the town,

I once was lost

But now I am found.

 

Jesus is the reason

For the Christmas season

And when he is left out of it,

It’s worse than treason.

 

 

I am a Christmas baby

But by my spiritual birth

And it’s all because one day

Jesus came to earth.

 

You can argue

All you like

As to the season

Or whether day or night.

 

But this I know

And am convinced the more

That I am a Christmas baby

And that is for sure.

 

Stewart Russell © December 16, 2024

 

Downsized Christmas Ham

 

 

The lead up to Christmas

Was extremely interesting

At the home of Mr. and Mrs. Moron,

Especially the baking.

 

You might be wondering

Why I am saying this

Well, just follow me very closely

And the point you won’t miss.

 

 

Every year Mr. Moron

Would buy a big ham,

To have a lot of ham for Christmas

Was always his plan.

 

But for some reason

His plan wouldn’t work out

And much of the Christmas ham

Was thrown out.

 

 

 

Mrs. Moron was the one

Who dealt with the ham

And clearly by now you should see

Her plan was not his plan.

 

Nothing new here,

I can tell you for a fact

For if you truly know the Morons

You’d see it in their chat.

 

Year after year

Mr. Moron would let it ride

But he decided this time around

He would stem the tide.

 

 

“Every year I buy a ham

And before you bake it

You does throw away some

As an annual habit”

 

To me, Simpleton,

Dat don’t make sense

And I am letting you know

I taking offense.

 

Why do you do dis?

Are you mad?

And if it was only a little bit

It won’t be so bad.”

 

 

“Well Moron,” she replied,

“I see my mother do it

And she uses to take off a lot

Not just a little bit.

 

I ask she one day

And she couldn’t tell me why,

She mother before she did it

And she didn’t even try.

 

That was de practice

Handed down to she

And as a good parent like she mother

She hand down it to me.”

 

 

“Whuh, I so sorry

That I en ask this before,

From now on I dun buying big hams

Anymore.

 

Cause it en mek no sense

Trowing away all o’ dat ham,

Dat to my way of tinking

Is not a good plan.”

 

 

“But Moron,

It ain’t ‘bout de size o’ de ham,

It is de tradition passed down

From my gran-gran.

 

And you see de little girl

Dat we got dey?

She gine have to do it too

Cause dat is de way”

 

 

And with that

Simpleton cuts off the ham,

Compliments of de culture

And her gran-gran.

 

When ovens were small

And hams wouldn’t hold

The ham had to be trimmed

Is what I was told.

 

Pass this on

To people who don’t know,

Begin with the Morons

But take it slow.

 

Stewart Russell © December 16, 2024

 

Is Christmas Pagan?

 

 

Pagan in the past

Pagan in the present,

‘Tis the view of some believers

Regardless of intent.

 

They read motive

And they read intent

So, all who celebrate Christmas

Need to repent.

 

Might I also add

They also read minds

And any celebrating Christmas

Is wrong every time.

 

Regarding Easter

Some believe the same,

And Good Friday, though solemn,

Is in the same frame.

 

Christmas is pagan,

It is not in the Word

But neither is the computer,

Haven’t they heard?

 

 

Pagans have a focus

Known to be idolatrous,

Their worship so-called deities

Other than Jesus.

 

The sun is one such,

And the moon and stars,

Then there are rivers and men

That are held on par.

 

Some made their gods

Which is quite the reverse,

Compared to the Creator God

Theirs is a curse.

 

It comes down to focus

At least, for me,

The Lord God Jehovah is God!

All else is idolatry.

 

Focus on Jesus Christ,

The Christ of Christmas,

He is Emmanuel, God with us,

Yes, that’s Jesus.

 

Emulate God’s giving

And give to others,

Especially for the less fortunate,

Make it brighter.

 

Celebrate God’s Gift:

The Gift of His Son

Sacrificed for the whosoever

As the sin ransom.

 

Myriad arguments

By some will be raised

But for that first Christmas

Give God praise.

 

Praise for His Son,

Praise for redemption

And praise for that first advent

Resulting in our salvation.

 

 

 

Call it pagan, if you will,

If that is your view

But Christmas for me is Christ,

How about you?

 

Stewart Russell © December 12, 2024

 

A Feeding Trough

 

 

Just a feeding trough,

Nothing glamourous

And in my immediate environ

The smell is obnoxious.

 

I attract animals

Only by what’s in me

And if you said their feed,

I’d say exactly.

 

You could well imagine

My great surprise

When I was the one chosen

To hold a child.

 

A special child

I soon came to find out,

As the Saviour of the world

I had no doubt.

 

 

I felt humbled,

As I was only a manger

And they selected lowly me

To bear the Saviour.

 

 

Crudely fashioned

Just like that cruel cross

That he would be crucified on

To pay sin’s cost.

 

Sin’s wages, his death,

Man’s redemption

Through Jesus’ death, burial

And resurrection.

 

 

And I, his birth,

The cross, his death,

Both of us playing a part

In God’s rest.

 

A rest for all

That trust in God

For their eternal salvation

After Adam’s fall.

 

 

I was transformed

Just like the cross

And elevated to much more

Than a feeding trough.

 

Most had their day

And so did I

On that first Christmas Day

When God drew nigh.

 

Stewart Russell © December 11, 2024

 

Shopping List Praying

 

 

Heavenly Father,

Help me reduce my shopping list

And the constant adding of items

I believe I miss.

 

It is growing longer

And daily more bulky

And I am really beginning to feel

I am kind of greedy.

 

It is mostly about the things

That I think I need:

Mostly tangible and material

And bargain deals.

 

For life to be much easier,

For finances to improve

And to help me to get myself

Into a better groove.

 

The car wants changing

It is over three years

And the house needs painting;

It looks so drear.

 

 

Thus continues the list

With intermittent breaks

To think of more needed items

Mostly for my sake.

 

I am not selfish,

I pray for others too

That as God supplies my needs

They will also get through.

 

It’s getting overbearing,

These shopping lists

But for some reason, dear God,

I cannot resist.

 

And then the complaints,

These are numerous too

Such that I am tired and sleepy

When I get through.

 

Nothing is going right

In this country of ours

And almost every waking morn

There are new horrors.

 

Another homicide

Or another road fatality

And my prayer shopping list

Grows exponentially.

 

I am tired of it, Lord,

For it has become a ritual

And that I now seem ungrateful

Is somewhat regrettable.

 

 

Help me to see you

Beyond a shopping list

And to see you as the reason

Why I exist.

 

In you I live and move

And have my being,

Without you there’s nothing

I am capable of achieving.

 

And all that I ask for

You give to me anyway

Meaning I should give thanks

Each and every day.

 

You have promised

To supply my every need

And that you have been doing

In fact, indeed.

 

 

Help me not reduce you

To a shopping list God

But to acknowledge the fact

You are my all in all.

 

So, all praise to you

For your abundance

And let my shopping list pale

In genuine repentance.

 

Stewart Russell © September 1, 2024

 

Call me Benji

 

 

Benji, as you know,

Is the short for Benjamin

As in the Animal Farm satire

Also made into a film.

 

Call me Benji if you like

Since this case is not formal

And as you know,

Donkeys are not people.

 

I played a support role

In a number of Bible events

But two in particular

Better illustrate my intent.

 

 

I could speak of Saul

Who became Israel’s first king

And his search for asses…

Oh boy, isn’t that a thing?

 

 

 

I could talk of Balaam

And about his talking jackass

That had more sense than he,

Boy, wasn’t that class?

 

I carried a king twice:

To his birth and to his death,

If you read the Bible often

You’d know the rest.

 

I belonged to Joseph;

He was a respectable man

Thus, one of my supporting roles

Was in redemption’s plan.

 

Mary was pregnant

But they had a problem

And because of a Roman census

They went to Bethlehem.

 

 

I had to carry Mary

And her unborn child

Whom many would refer to as,

Jesus meek and mild.

 

At the time of the census

I did not know this

But carrying the Christ child,

I’d never want to miss.

 

That was some honour,

Oh, it was so sweet,

God’s mode of transportation

Was Benji’s footsure feet.

 

Call me a jackass

But I felt like a king

When I carried the King of kings!

Wasn’t that something?

 

I was in the stall too

When the shepherds came,

They were joyful and happy

Praising Jehovah’s name.

 

No wisemen were there;

Not in that stall,

Contrary to popular belief,

There were none at all.

 

Some years after

A close relative of mine

Also played a supporting role

In an event in his time.

 

 

His name was also Benji

Just like most donkeys

So, I will let him tell his experience

For posterity.

 

I was tied up

When these men came,

I believe they spoke to my owner

And mentioned a name.

 

All I heard was master

And having need of me,

And then thy took me away

This master for to see.

 

None had sat me before

So this was an honour,

Just four spindly legs

But I was carrying all power.

 

Jesus was fully grown then,

Not a baby anymore

But Benji, the second, back then,

Was just as footsure.

 

At Jesus’ birth

The town was Bethlehem

But this was the capital city,

Specifically, Jerusalem.

 

I walked on palm leaves

And on people’s clothes,

Nothing like as with Balaam

Delivering those blows.

 

I can still hear shouting

As the people rejoiced

Not knowing a few days later

They’d be another choice.

 

 

“Hosanna,” they shouted,

As I carried him

But later it was “Crucify him!”

Though he had no sin.

 

 

 

No fault had been found

But Jesus had to die

And so, “Hosanna in the Highest”

Changed to “Crucify!”

 

Two life-changing events

In fulfilment of prophecy:

The latter: The Triumphal Entry

The former: The Nativity.

 

Two premiere events

In which Benji took part

So next time you see a jackass,

Please have a heart.

 

Stewart Russell © December 10, 2024