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 We say we know what Christmas means, And that just might be. But we don’t know what it truly is Until we know the baby. Born in just a stable, it was The most humble of a beginning. But behind those tiny, newborn eyes Was the Son of a King. We say we know what Christmas means And know of all its joy. But we don’t know what it truly is Until we know the boy. On earth he was a carpenter’s son, The most humble of a job. But behind those boyish, playful eyes Was the Son of God. We say we know what Christmas means And can talk of all our plans. But we don’t know what it truly is Until we know the man. He walked on earth in power and peace But a nail would pierce his hands. Because behind those caring, saving eyes Was the Son of the Great I AM. We say we know what Christmas means And give gifts to those we favor. But we don’t know what it truly is Until we know the Savior. He gave His gift to all mankind And traded life for life, So that we’ll know beyond all doubts The Way, The Truth, and The Life. ©Wendi Miller KEEP READINGComments are closed.
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