How much pain there would be
If every Sunday felt the pressure
Of a Christmas Sunday,
To get the words just so and the
Worship in perfect order
So that every last drop of the wonder
Of God’s Love come down to us
In the Gift of Immanuel
Wrapped squirming in a manger
Might be savored?
How much pain,
But oh how much pleasure?
A Pastor Musing in His Study (A Christmas Poem)
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