How could it be that these wee little hands
Flung stars into space, formed the oceans and lands?
How could this Babe’s tiny cry in the night
Be the same voice that long past said, “Let there be light”?
How could one see, in this Infant’s bright gaze,
The God of the Universe, Ancient of Days?
How could it be that these sweet tiny feet
Have walked in a place where pure gold lines the street?
How could this small baby boy bear the weight
Of all humankind and their eternal fate?
The wonder of that Christmas night long ago
Is greater than my mind can fathom or know.
But one thought shines as clear as that bright star of old: This Christ child has rescued my poor sinful soul.
I wrote this poem on Christmas evening this year, as I held my tiny baby, and pondered on Jesus Christ being this small once. So amazing to consider! I pray you all are having a wonderful, peaceful, and joy-filled holiday season. Love,
Mykaela
