Living Crib
Make a manger of my heart, O Lord!
Your skillful carpenter’s hands master Grace’s lathe and plane.
Chiseled chips of fallen humanity, flash frustration
Fly! Falling upon the soil of my soul,
Softening it, creating a bed for beasts of burden to lay.
Carve a cradle for yourself, my sweet Baby Savior.
The knife of your loving wisdom
Meticulously contours my character.
Transforms passions into zeal for your house.
Creates your dwelling within me,
Beckoning angels and welcoming the shepherds they bring.
Recreate your crib, hewn from fragments of dead wood,
Me. Your cross.
You bonded to me.
Me melded to you.
We became one as you fell asleep for three days.
Now, rest in the living crib of my reborn soul.
Peacefully I rock you within me.
Joyfully I quiet the restless stirrings of worldly concerns:
Bills, politics, what’s for dinner musings.
I swoon with the rhythm of your breath,
Enraptured with the gift, your life resting, unmerited, in me.
Hush! Hush! Hush! My precious Baby Savior
As I bathe your fuzzy head with tears of contrition,
Tenderly voiced in your lullaby:
“I’m taking care of you, taking good care of you…”
Rock! Rock! Rock to sleep
Wrapped in the blanket of my love,
Nestled upon the bosom of a beloved disciple,
Stroking your cheek, adoring your eyelashes.
I hold you as the “Apple of My Eye”, and
You set me as a “seal upon your heart”.
Now, rebuild your Infant King’s tabernacle in my soul.
Magnanimously I draw back my Veil of Faith,
Revealing you to The Kings.
They bring you Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh.
And I, I give you me.
Nest in my heart, my Baby King.
Stacy Peterson
