Praise Him for the Incarnation
For the Word made flesh.
I will not sing
of shepherds watching flocks
on frosty night
or angel choristers.
I will not sing of stable bare in Bethlehem
Or lowing oxen
Wise men
Trailing distant star
With gold and frankincense and myrrh
Tonight I will sing
Praise to the Father
Who stood on heaven’s threshold
And said farewell to His Son
As He stepped across the stars
To Bethlehem
And Jerusalem.

And I will sing praise to the infinite eternal Son
Who became most fine
A Baby
Who would one day be executed
For my crimes

Praise Him in the heavens.
Praise Him in the stable.
Praise Him in my heart.
Joseph Bayly


  1. This poignant drawing really brings home the point: Jesus was incarnate for the purpose of suffering for my sins.

    Happy Christmas, Deborah!

  2. Amen, Casey, and the same to you!

  3. I was very touched by your drawing and by the poem. Thank you.


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