Christmas Eve is fast approaching. In a few hours, families will gather to worship the little Lord Jesus asleep in the hay. He is our only hope of salvation against the vortex of death swirling around us while helpless babies laying asleep in their mother’s womb are being suctioned away and sold to the highest bidder on this Christmas Day.
AWAY IN A COFFIN
Away in a coffin, no womb for a bed, The little poor baby could not lay down his sweet head.
The angels in the sky looked down where the child once lay, The little poor baby weeping and wailing he makes.
I pretend to love Thee, My Lord Jesus, turn away from me I plead, And keep away from my side till morning is nigh.
Be far from me , Lord Jesus, I beg Thee to leave, I pray
Utilize all the parts of my baby for worldly care, And take me to hell, to live apart from Thee there.
Our world has thrown away the manager and the baby for the passing pleasures of the moment never asking or pondering the question;
” What Child is this, who laid to rest, On Mary’s lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet, While shepherds watch are keeping?
This , this is Christ the King, Whom shepherds guard and angels sing: Haste, Haste to bring Him laud, The babe, the son of Mary.”
Mary Christmas indeed in this year of mercy.