A Holy Spirit Stirring

This is a Christmas poem I wrote for our church's Christmas program...outside of that setting I'm not sure if it's a good poem, but I'm posting it anyways because that's what I do! Date would be December 2004.

A Holy Spirit Stirring
By: R.A. Slater

Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the church
First Baptist and others
There was a great stirring going on.

The church had grown weary
And was setting in to take a long winters nap
She’d taken off her robe and made up the bed
And as she slid out of her slippers…there arose such a clatter!

The noise shook the church way down deep
For it had the sound of a mighty rushing wind
Surely, surely, it could not be HE
Thought the church as she put her slippers back on.

But before she could take a step
There He stood before her!
The Holy Ghost of God, arrayed in splendor
His countenance lighting the entire chamber.

She could scarce take it in!
He had come like He’d promised!
In His arms He bore many gifts,
And strangely enough…was that a squirrel on His shoulder?!

The gift exchange was quiet and somber at first.
She offered up shame, and He covered it with righteousness.
She laid down offenses and He filled her with forgiveness.
She showed Him brokenness, and He knit her broken bones back together again.

Bitterness was laid down, along with anger and hate
In their place, the Holy Ghost gave peace, patience and love
He caught each one of her tears in a bottle.
Sin after sin was laid down, and each one He covered with the Blood of Christ.

As she laid down her sorrow,
Curiosity got the better of this dear lady.
In her seriousness before Him she asked,
“What is the deal with the squirrel?”

The Holy Ghost laughed, such a pleasant sound
He held out His hand to where the squirrel ran down to stand
“His name is Mirth,” the Holy replied,
“He’s symbolic you know…for the name Mirth is just another name for joy!”

In all seriousness, my friends
It does not take great discernment
To look around this church
And see the hand of God at work

Friendships mended
Broken hearts becoming whole
Bodies being healed
His glory becoming manifest

Even when the hour is late
And we have grown weary
We can rest assured that we serve a great God
Who neither slumbers nor sleeps

If we could but tarry for a little while longer
Press on a little bit farther
What glories we will see
As the Holy Ghost pours Himself out

What glories will we see?
Rather, whose glory will we see?
Why the very glory of God
The only glory worth seeing.