A Humble New Year

This has been a tumultuous year, to say the least. More than that, it seems that 2017 has been an arrogant year.

As the meme says, "Every day we stray further from God's light."

The Wrath of a Gentle Man

When I was still a youth my father said
The hour draws near
to teach you, as my father did, those things
all wise men fear.

The ocean vast, majestic, calm, the thoughtful
heart keeps warm,
But wisely clings to safety's shore in tempest
and in storm.

The moonlit night restores the soul, whether
you wake or sleep,
But 'pon new moon what evil tracks its ways
in darkness deep?

Still worse than these, the wise man knows, its pow'r
he can't withstand:
Do not awake, do not arouse
the wrath of a gentle man.

The boundless depths, the vast expanse, the sailor
holds these dear.
With rope and sail and oar in hand, he conquers
every fear.

But when the waves do toss and break and rake
him o'er the coals,
The wise man seeks the harbor's calm, avoids
the wrecking shoals.

Still though how mount'nous are the crests, how low the
valleyed troughs,
There's something more than storm he fears, and leaves it
lie far off.

Poseidon's rage may splinter ships, and hopeless
sailors strand,
But fearsome'r still than crashing waves
is the wrath of a gentle man.

The hunter has no fear at nighttime when
the moon is raised.
No friend nor foe, no prey nor snare escapes
his piercing gaze.

But when the moon hath hid its face, the dark path
he doth shun:
The wise man tarries not at night, while shadows
lengthening run.

But still preferred is moonless night, all trackless,
wand'ring, lost,
The wise man knows that other fears may fetch
a dearer cost.

The hounds of hell may howl and bay within that
trackless stand,
But fearsome'r still in the dead of night
is the wrath of a gentle man.

The darkened night, the raging storm, strike fear
in wisest heart,
If length of days be yours, my son, avoid them
for your part.

But peace, for only nature's whims are dangers
such as these;
Let not the troubles of this kind your heart
in terror seize.

Betrayal by friend, thy foe's keen sword, o'er these
the wise prevails.
And nature's strength the wise man turns and of
its pow'r avails.

But though he toil, though he prepare, no matter
what his plan,
Even the wise man can't survive
the wrath of a gentle man.

Myrrh Christmas?

Merry Christmas! Today is, of course, the 12th day, the Feast of the Three Kings, Epiphany - though it will be celebrated this Sunday by most of us (which, as it was last year is certainly commented on, but decidedly not the point of this post).

Instead, today I want to talk about one of my favorite Christmas Hymns, which - much like We Three Kings from last year's post, seems rarely sung in its entirety.

So here's your chance to correct that grave disservice done to you this season! Dive into a Christmas carol that one website warns has explicit lyrics, and which inspires me to wear the coolest Christmas tie ever!

Ask yourself this Christmastide: Who could this baby be?