The Crib and the Cry

The Crib and the Cry;

The animals in wonder.


The Cross and the Why;

The people in blunder.


Was this Jesus the Son of God?

As a baby surely not!

As a man, upon a cross, surely, no.

What would it look like if God came to earth;


In disguise, as one of us?

Would we see it?

Would we know?

Of course we wouldn’t, so off we go.


Doing our thing, without a thought;

Of the One who made us,

And saved us, our salvation bought.


And so he is placed in a cattle feeding trough;

We remember this day, as smooth not rough.

But splinters are had in cribs and crosses.

In his body once wrapped; and in his body wracked.


Here He is, Jesus, to us all from sin-slumber woken.

Calling us out to the light, in the fight, from the night, not by might;

That we can live his life in joy,

The treasure of heaven; food for the world;

All in that baby, God’s plan unfurls.


So go on, take your cue in the pew of a sinless Saviour – phew!

Hear his cry; unwrap your presents.

Know his joy; unwrap your heart.

See the glory and the pain;

That this season holds truth,

For now we know the Lord God reigns.

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