By Anna Masten Jackson
"HALT" the herald angels sing,
"You're about to miss the King.
While you have been running wild,
You just almost missed the child.
He can't be found in gifts and lights,
He's not in the Christmas sights.
He is waiting, oh so still,
He's the whisper that you feel."
"HALT", the herald angels sing,
"Stop and praise the King of Kings."
Last night I sat in the glow of Christmas lights thinking, "No, no, no! Don't let it be over so soon!" I always feel like that on Christmas Eve. It makes me sad that the season is drawing to a close--- especially when I haven't taken time to enjoy the precious moments. As I sat listening to carols, my mind begin to hear the words to the poem above. I think it is the message the angels would bring to the shepherds of this day and age. We rush in the spirit of the season and end up missing the whole thing. In an effort to make it all perfect we squeeze the spirit right out of it. I heard a quote that my sisters would probably say would be a perfect bumper sticker for me. It read, "The only thing that lets you down is your expectations." Yep, I am the president of that club (but I am working on it). I build it all up in my mind and then am frustrated when it isn't just as I imagined. Lucky for me I slowed long enough to hear the angels last night (okay, they were in my head, but the message was clear--don't judge.) "HALT!"
I don't want to miss the King. I want to gaze on the sweet, chubby cheeks of my Savior. I want to imagine what his life as a child was. I want to ponder what it felt like for Mary to hold and rock him. I want to feel the pride God felt as he looked down on his son. I want to bring my proverbial gold, frankincense, and myrrh and lay it at his feet. I want to take my place beside the shepherds and marvel at the miracle of Christmas.
I didn't miss it. I have time. Sing with me:
Hail the heav'n-born Prince of Peace!
Hail the Son of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings
Ris'n with healing in His wings
Mild He lays His glory by
Born that man no more may die
Born to raise the sons of earth
Born to give them second birth
Hark! The herald angels sing
"Glory to the newborn King!"
by Charles Wesley
