One Week Until Christmas

December 18, 2012 at 8:53 PM · Filed under Uncategorized and tagged: Child, Christmas, Connecticut, Families, Family, God, Good-Bye, In Her Baby's Tiny Hands, Jesus, Joy, Joyce Folsom Johnson, Love, Mary, Mistakes, Mom, Mother, Music, Peace, Poem, Pray, Prayer, Savior, Sin, Sinners, Sins, Suffering, Ten Tiny Fingers, Ten Tiny Toes, Youngest Monkey, Youtube

I was thinking about this today. There is one week left until Christmas.

Families all around the country and world are laying loved ones to rest.

My Youngest Monkey has been a light in my life lately. My heart just feels so much for those families who lost those children. I could not even begin to imagine having to say have a funeral so close to Christmas.

Not that it really makes much of a difference when you say good-bye to a child but to do it so close to a time of year that is supposed to be so full of joy, love and peace.

In our family we are celebrating Jesus being born. He came to this world to save us sinners from our mistakes and sins. And the one thing we are supposed to look forward to is when we are back with our Savior.

It is just so hard though knowing others are out there suffering with all that is going on!

A couple of weeks ago I went to a dinner with my mom. The music person (who I have known almost my whole life) sang this song. A son I had never heard before. I have searched for it on youtube, online and I haven’t found it, any place. And those who really know me know I am pretty good at finding things online.

Tonight I found a poem and I am pretty certain this is the poem that he sang on that night. It was a song that brought me to tears. I am not typically brought to tears by music. There are times it just moves me and there are probably a handful of times I can recall a song bringing me to tears. But as I sat there in the church listening to the words it just hit me.

This man who was born and lived just like I am was sent here for me. He was a baby. He was in his mother’s womb and grew. He had ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. He wiggled around when she was pregnant. I haven’t been moved like that in a very long time.

I am sharing the poem with you and I hope it moves you as it did me in song form!

In Her Baby’s Tiny Hands

While pregnant with her Son
Beneath her heart within,
She’d often feel His hands
Moving inside her skin.

He’d stretch His arm and hand
And push out on her side
She’d lovingly push it back
With a smile so sweet and wide.

She could hardly wait
For His upcoming birth
To touch His tiny hands
And welcome Him to Earth.

Then it finally came,
The night that He was born.
With joy she couldn’t contain,
She held Him until morn.

She explored His tiny fingers.
She counted all His toes.
She wanted to get to know Him,
His ears, His cheeks, His nose.

The wonder of it all,
At this new baby boy!
She could not hold back.
She wept with tears of joy.

She touched His tiny hand,
A miniature of her own.
He squeezed it tight on her finger.
Such joy she had never known!

The time passed and He grew.
As a toddler, it was grand
To walk along and hold
His fleshy little hand.

She taught Him many things.
Together they spent hours.
She’d take His little hand
And touch it to a flower.

When she would hold Him close,
He soon developed the knack
Of hugging her ’round the neck,
His tiny hand patting her back.

As her Son grew older,
His young hands also grew.
He learned many ways to use them.
Each day brought something new.

She helped Him learn to read.
She helped Him learn to write.
Then, as the day was ending,
She’d pray with Him at night.

He learned to use a hammer
With which to drive a nail.
He’d sometimes strike His finger
And let out quite a wail!

Her Son continued growing
And soon became a Man.
She loved Him just as much
As when His life began.

His hands were now full grown,
So strong, yet tender, when
He, with deep compassion,
Comforted a friend.

She was extremely grateful
When His hands would fold;
And bowing His head in prayer,
To His Father in Heaven He’d hold.

As the years flew swiftly by,
She watched her Son with pride,
His strong but gentle arms
And hands there at His side.

She then thought her life was over.
She suffered unspeakable loss
When her Son’s beloved hands
Were nailed to a wooden cross . . .

But that was just the beginning.
For He died and rose again.
Her sorrow then was ended,
And joy replaced her pain.

For, you see, her Son was Jesus,
God coming to earth as Man,
To save us from our sins
According to His plan.

We cannot save ourselves.
Our sins would lead to death.
God put our sins on Jesus,
The perfect and the best.

With this came our forgiveness
If we believe in Him
And ask Him into our hearts,
He’ll take away our sins.

As He was resurrected,
Eternal Life He’ll bring
To all who have faith and believe
And to His hand will cling.

To Jesus be ALL Praise and Glory!

[ By Joyce Folsom Johnson ]

I am praying for those families who are not feeling the love, joy and peace that comes with this season. I am praying for those families who are hurting right now.

I pray this poem blesses you as it did me!

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