‘Twas two weeks before Christmas
and all through the land,
churches are caught up in the season —
the celebrations are grand.
Here in Kansas City,
if you come to Village at night,
you’ll find light in the darkness;
the windows shine bright.
The choirs are singing,
and the pastors are praying;
they have just a few days
to figure out what they’ll be saying.
Christmas Eve is approaching;
the plans are in place;
the poinsettias are ready
to be sent out with grace.
The bulletins are printed;
the orchestra rehearsing;
the staff and committees
cannot stop conversing.
There’s so much commotion:
concerts, dinners and events;
to try and attend every one
simply defies common sense.
But as all of you know,
for some, these days are not merry;
their grief is acute,
their burdens too much to carry.
But here’s the good news,
for the young and the old:
relief is on its way,
like the prophets foretold.
So come, all ye faithful
and all ye despairing;
come follow the star;
hear the angels declaring:
“Do not be afraid;
come and see what’s been done!
Asleep in a manger
is God’s very own son.”
There are some who might think
that a barn’s a disgrace;
that the savior of the world
needs a much better place.
But this little baby
knows exactly what’s true:
he’s coming to repair
a world gone askew.
He’s perfectly content
in a bed that’s a mess;
because he’s come to reside
with all those in distress.
So bring him your hopes,
your dreams, and your heart;
he will help you stand up
when you’re falling apart.
O, come and adore
the one asleep in the hay;
he is the promise of God,
he is Christmas Day.
So Merry Christmas to all
and to all a good night.
Rest well, my dear friends;
the world is being made right.
