Monday, December 18, 2006


Shelter from the winter,
and the long day's journey,
Just a rock outcropping,
The only place to stay,
A place used as a stable,
Shelter from the storm
There Mary made her resting place
When her little child was born.

Sheltered from the hands of man,
And a king who chose to kill,
The baby rested quietly
As babies sometimes will
At the bosom of his mother
who rocked him on her way,
On the dusty road to Egypt
For a sheltered place to stay.

Unsheltered from the hands of man
the woman trembled there,
Expecting to go down to death
by men who didn't care.
Looking up she saw his face,
No mob to kill her left
Shelter came from heaven's love
A healing, swift and deft.

He built a shelter from the storm
with his own precious blood
As the mob cried out for death
To drag him in the mud,
The pain, the grief, the shameful death
God's haven for the lost,
Shelter for all time and space
he made there at the cross.

Susan E. Stone, 2006


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