The Gift of Pain

With opened eyes, I wake to know
The fallen snow and evergreen
of Christmas tree, on blessed morn
when He was born, and God was seen

So many gifts, none too immense
of frankincense, or gold or myrrh
What is this gift, I see beneath
the holly wreath? I can't be sure

A box with ribbons they adorn
In biting thorn, to give the child
I loose my seat, and bar the way
My hand to stay, and fury wild

But they respond, with patient calm
There is no balm for cancer's cure
If chemotherapy be right
A painful fight, he must endure

So many nights, I watched him die
To curse the sky at Him, insane
I, bitter-mouthed, would damn His choice
With heart and voice, the gift of pain

But still the Christmas snow would fall
And through it all, my son believed
He praised the Lord, I knew not why
I watched him die, and only grieved

But with last breath, as if a hiss
He whispered this; "Christ is the Lord"
Then gave his life, his body still
A deadly chill, and pierce of sword

I don't recall those after days,
And through that haze I tried to lean
On comfort, with those words in mind
I tried to find what they could mean

And for the first, I read the book
With open look, I saw it show
On Calvary, the Son of God
On whom I trod, but did not know

This man who taught and sought to save
By empty grave, our faith succoured
That my son too, with final breath
Would not give death the final word

With love and pain the wine is pressed
To see us dressed for wedding day
Oh, lift our veil with kiss of grace,
wipe from our face all tears away