"A Christmas Poem"
The King of all Kings,
So lowly a birth
For such immeasurable worth.
They sought for a King,
A ruler on a throne.
Instead came a babe,
A servant, in a manger.
They thought He would reign,
But He came to serve
The One to save the world,
So Worthy, So Deserving,
Became a Servant for those
Who deserved not to be served;
He loved those who loved not.
A disappointment to some,
But in so being,
He brought hope to all.
He loved so deeply
That He would not even call
Twelve legions of angels
To break His fall.
He gave so freely
Though we deserved death,
He sent His Son,
So free from sin.
For my iniquities, He gave
So I could have life
For only a seed of mustard.
He took those curses,
Those mockings, that scorn,
That should have been mine,
Those crowns of thorn.
He became nothing for me,
So that I could be free
For to Him
I was worth His very life.
When on that tree,
I was the one that crucified Him.
Yet He knew my name
And chose not to blame.
Instead on His lips,
“Father, forgive.”
In spite of the fact,
That I was His murderer.
His eyes contained no hate
For the one who spat,
Who cursed, who condemned.
No, only Love was crucified
For He could not lie.
For me He came to die.
Yet not to stay dead.
But He conquered death
And rose from that bed.
How could I reject such a gift,
Given with such care?
He gave from His heart
Such tender love there.
He who became nothing for me,
Is now everything to me.
For He is come that I might have life
And that I may have it more abundantly.
~December 25th, 2010
"Abundant Life"
Yet what does that mean?
For each day I glean,
But not for wheat.
It seems
Abundant life has torn
Off and left me worn
Trying to retrace
The path my Savior trod.
This way I crave,
Yet He already gave.
He walked this sod,
And now can nod
Though I daily fall
He hears my call.
He leads me moment
By moment
To Himself and He
Never puts me on a shelf.
But He extends His hand,
And promises a land
Where no heartache
May start to break.
So when you’re weary
And so very worn
Of eyes so teary,
And hearts so torn
When broken from trials
Here not able to be spoken,
Just remember
That this November,
We are only strangers here
For a short while,
Until that day we’ll smile,
When He’ll wipe away all sorrow
For time here we merely borrow.
Perhaps life abundant is simply this:
Taking His hand
And following His plan,
Stepping with His feet
Until we meet
In Him Complete
In that promised land.
-December 14th, 2014
Both Poems Composed by Kristen Michelle Langner
