Descending to a women’s womb,
for a moment deity fit on the tip
of a finger
forming inward parts;
All-flesh, God knit,
all-man, delicate,
like Adam’s dust
and just like us-
yet
all-God, woven together in mystery,
the Son of Man and apex of history.

Born knowing need like mine,
though angels praising
flood the sky.
His birth proclaiming
“War is here,
the Prince of Peace has drawn near.”
That light the darkness loves to hate
and shudders at a love this great.
A humble God who could imagine?
A threatened rage ignites in passion;
Herod’s hand takes Satan’s sword,
Day one: earth seeks to slay it’s Lord.

But I- I needed
God made flesh.
He- He has made Him known.
It was my blindness that called for His light,
but groping, I left Him alone.

It was my dumb ears, with hearing mute
that should ache for His voice and His truth,
but instead my striving pushed Him away,
so His choice to arrive as the door and the way-
as the life, one born on behalf of the dead,
was my only hope and Hell’s greatest dread.

Beset with weakness,
hunger, thirst,
but worse,
temptations from man’s curse-
“Tempted as we are,
yet without sin,”
Jesus alone could conquer
and win
the war of our flesh,
withstand Satan’s deceit,
give compassion for scorning,
turning the cheek.

Christ alone tempted
to the point of shed blood,
from our griefs not exempted,
but suffered, each one.
A man in my place,
who can surely relate
to my need,
to my pain,
though He has not a stain.

Yet, He tasted for me,
for us all on that tree-
one death for all time,
for all men,
victory.

Victory in the crushing,
victory in the slaughter;
What my lost soul required
of His own desire,
He poured out, a free offer,
to make me God’s child;
Through Jesus and to Him
I’m now reconciled.

He shall see His offspring
and reap His reward,
with brothers He’ll sing-
His children restored.
We will dance with our King
who will ever remain
man resurrected, fully God,
Lamb once slain.