The Day After Christmas

and all through the house...

It was the day after Christmas,
the very next day
(though officially in the commonwealth
it's called Boxing Day),
and all through the land
much to their delight
(and fatigue if you really
want to name it just right)
millions of players, and singers,
and ringers to boot,
were sitting around
on their collective patoot.

Some were more lucky,
and were found in the sun-
drenched tropics
but not everyone.
For many were part-time,
curse the luck,
and still had to scramble
to come by a buck,
or three due to costs
of anything these days,
which meant that the
season had been quite a haze
of concerts and parties
and services and such,
leaving these toilers
a bit out of touch
with the world as you know it
but it is quite clear
that your season of yule
is dependent on cheer
they provide every Sunday,
and weekdays,
and yes
even Saturday some years.

They'd do it again
(of course don't you know,
they've been doing it
for thousands
of years, or so)
for the cause
(and you know we're not talking
about that guy Claus)
which is to help lead
those that they serve
to remember
the remarkable deed
that a king would choose service
as a mere child
to render our debt
paid, stamped, and filed
away in a ledger we don't understand
completely but know that by faith we are free
to return the favor to everyone we see
by telling them that all that was sung
and played and expertly rung
was not about them but the singular one
a child yet a king
a man yet divine
who entered our story
surrounded by kine,
the one who is worthy
the musicians proclaim
to be yet the lamb
eventually slain,
but that is a story
yet to be played out
in the season the musicians
were thinking about,
for exhausted as they
might be on this day,
they know that Easter
is not far away.

So think of those servants
trained in the arts
who season by season
well play all their parts
in the festival services
three, four, and five,
to make Scripture's story
more fully alive
for those who oft times
just a moment or two
start to remember why the
season is for and for who.

Say thanks if you will
(though this isn't that season)
to those who right now
are tired for a reason,
for in a few days
you know what they'll do
they'll begin the process
of starting anew
on the work of their mission
which is to lead praise
(and lament, time to time)
for all of their days.

And pray if you might
for those who for why
is complex
but often comes down to vex-
ing some-one or some-nines
as part of their job
and have been let go
by the people they've served
for better or worse,
and now have to find
a way past the curse
of no calling, no dough,
with bills to pay who's
due dates don't slow,
and are looking for work
at the worst time of year
so for them this season
has brought little cheer.

Which brings us around
and back to the top
of our little poem
so now we will stop,
and linger, and rest...
by tomorrow we'll
be at it again with our best.

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