One heard the (dainty!) snoring of a woman knocked-out.

Sunday’s outfit slung over her chair

In hopes that she wouldn’t forget what to wear.

 

Chicken and rice was ready, and sitting in a dish,

Waiting to take to church in answer to her wish.

Her soft electric blanket held her in a tight wrap,

As she had just settled in for a long winter’s nap.

 

When out of the darkness there arose such a clatter,

She sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Her eyes to the alarm clock flew like a flash,

It was too early, so under her covers she dashed.

 

The clouded sun brightened a new-fallen snow

When she awoke realizing it was too late to go.

She glanced at the window when what should appear,

But four flying white-tails belonging to deer.

 

They ran in a row, simultaneouly quick,

She knew in a moment they must be God’s gift.

More rapid than eagles more creatures came,

And she smiled and shouted “praise to his name!”

 

” ‘Now, believer, now, Christian! now, worshipper, fall!

Come to the Father right where you are!

The deer may fly, but your spirit, too,

Come to me, child, for I love you.’

 

His voice was unmistakeable as snow flakes fly,

So she met with God there while looking to the sky.

The pastor is smart and no doubt did espouse,

But this morning at home, her heart God did rouse.

 

The deer long gone, their beauty elsewhere,

She walked to her office, paused, and sat there.

When she heard Him again, “daughter do as I might”,

So she set her fingers on the keyboard and began to write:

 

“God is dressed all in light, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes are all shining, so we read in the Book,

A bundle of gifts he has flung our direction,

Each of them chosen and given with affection.

 

“His eyes-they see each person! His heart is merry

When He looks on His children whose sins He has buried!

We bow and admit, Him we need to know,

And He makes our darkness as white as the snow.

 

“Hope is now possible, and we grin with our teeth,

Aware that for us He wore thorns like a wreath.

He died and lives again – to fill more than Christmas bellies!

Our spirits’ deep needs He meets… like a chef’s at a deli!

 

“In painful moments, we may put living on a shelf,

Yet may laugh because of Him, in spite of ourselves!

A look at His Word, acknowledging He is Head,

Soon remind us He knows we have nothing to dread.

 

“Remember friend, Jesus held seven stars in His hand,

Yet He reached out to John, and touched the man.

This is the God who loves you and me –

Able to hold the universe and close by us be.

 

“He will return in the clouds, (the angels might whistle!)

What joy when we fly up to Him like down of a thistle!

Whether once dead or alive, we will rise out of sight,

Shouting, ‘Happy praise to God!’, and ‘what a great night!’ “