O Christmas Tree
Dave Hood
(UK)
They chopped down Gods tree. Laid on Him, the bare naked edge of their axe and cut him down from the Garden of Life. He was planted years ago, just like any other fir tree. Quietly and without fuss or real notice. Carefully placed by the hand of its creator. The planting of greatness, in the forest of man. Within, its seed, providing the hope, of one day this sapling surviving the rigours and dangers of this worlds life. Like us, to daily struggle to find height, to find light, to find space, that we might desperately find His life, space and place in Him.
They cut him down. This fair tree, destined for what? Does he now stand acknowledged in your room or on your shelf? Is he lit with lights or bedecked with baubles? No, this tree is the Light. Purity beyond purity. Light beyond light, and of himself is every Jewel, every Gem and Stone imaginable. Is he covered in glory, or tinsel and tat? Today is his tree, still, the tree of His cross? So grown, on which is hung your shame!
He has always lived. Always lived and grown amongst us, besides us and have we esteemed him not? But have we been, or are we aware of the greatness that stands within our homes, within the planting of our human hearts. The centre piece of life. This tree is life. For this tree is living, from him all others grow. From him the whole root of life abides and flows. Humbly planted within the soil of humanity. Lowly laid. Lowly lived. Lowly died. Destined for wood, destined for dying…destined for burning. Will we throw him away or, wrap him up for another year?
Jesus, Gods mans size tree.
Chopped down, laid low. Dragged from his place of falling, with chains of sin. The egos, the avarice, the pride and greed of man. This fallen tree, whose bark was crushed, splintered and bruised, became battered and bleeding, to bring him here to you, into the heart of your home, Brought by Gods good intention, so that you may find, He has brought Him here for you.
Yes Father Lord, as I look afresh on your frame, I find faith in your fir. Life in your frame. I find meaning, and light in your hope. Help Lord, help me to collect your life giving sap, that flows from your fractured bark, your broken branches, broken to help me find your place of expression for me. Crushed by the machinery of life, and the heel of mans boot, to help us discover by your grace, the Healing, Health and Hope, that is in the meaning of your coming. That we may find the true meaning of your hope.
blessings
Dave Hood (UK)