All I want for Christmas

"All My Tears"

When I go, don't cry for me
In my Father's arms I'll be
The wounds this world left on my soul
Will all be healed and I'll be whole.
Sun and moon will be replaced
With the light of Jesus' face
And I will not be ashamed
For my Savior knows my name.

It don't matter where you bury me,
I'll be home and I'll be free.
It don't matter where I lay,
All my tears be washed away.

Gold and silver blind the eye
Temporary riches lie
Come and eat from heaven's store,
Come and drink, and thirst no more

It don't matter where you bury me
I'll be home and I'll be free
It don't matter where I lay
All my tears be washed away

So, weep not for me my friends,
When my time below does end
For my life belongs to Him
Who will raise the dead again.

It don't matter where you bury me,
I'll be home and I'll be free.
It don't matter where I lay,
All my tears be washed away.

-Jars of Clay

As Christmas approaches, my heart finds a voice in the cries of  the Roman-enslaved Israelis so long ago... "We need a Saviour!" Jesus, isn't it about time You showed up again? The flickers of light in this world sometimes seem engulfed by the darkness that enslaves so many. How much longer can the planet bear so much suffering? All I want for Christmas is for You to come, to place Your scarred hands on our heads, and to heal us. All I want is to sit with You and be able to see You as I talk to You. Living here wears me out, body and soul.



But Jesus tells me, "I have come, and I am here. You are part of my Presence, so keep at it. The lights aren't as wavering as they seem from ground level. They are spreading, and soon I'll engulf them in my Light."



For the record... if I die before then, please spare the expense of an ornate casket. Send the money to Uganda. Better yet, take the money and go to Uganda yourself. Take light and healing with you.


Just sayin'.