The Prayer of Joseph, Son of David

O Lord my God, who ever guided me,
Anoint my eyes that I might clearly see.
What is this horrid news which I have heard?
Then has another man made love to her?
For I would disbelieve it if I could,
For she seemed always godly, sure, and good.
And yet the child in her makes it clear,
That she has never really held me dear.
Was all her love and purity a show?
O Holy Father, only You would know.
I look to you for guidance in my mind;
What must I do with her who once was mine?
Perhaps — for her — I never was enough.
I could not make her happy, or feel loved.
So was I always insufficient then,
That to avoid me she would turn to sin?
Yet somehow, I yet love her through it all,
And would not wish to see, or cause, her fall.
If thus without me she is better pleased,
It is enough! I am content to leave.
I only pray her other lover will,
Bring her the joy that I could not instill.
So I forgive her as I set her free
God, surely this is what you’d have of me.

“Fear not, Joseph, for that babe is me.
And you who called me “Father” soon will be,
My earthly father. Rise, and take your bride!
And name the child Jesus. He will be the Christ.”

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Leviticus 23: Typological Rest

Every rest that Christ commanded,
Points as types and shadows,
To the rest in Christ now branded,
Of the days He hallowed.

Rest then showing our salvation,
Not by works receiving,
Trusting God against damnation,
In His grace believing.

Too, remember His creation,
Trumpets shrilly singing,
Keep yourselves – His holy nation,
He His kingdom bringing.

Keep your words and ways then humble,
Resting in His working,
These two things would make you stumble,
Christ atonement birthing.

And the harvest celebration,
All in tents are dwelling,
Showing Jesus’ incarnation,
Decadence dispelling.

Joy before the Lord displaying,
We the fruits He gathered,
Worship – joyous music playing,
Thanks to God the Father!

Resting in His many graces,
In your dwellings praise Him.
Keep His rest in all your places,
Every house embrace Him!

When Christmas Turns to Bedlam

When Christmas turns to Bedlam,
And Bethlehem to hatred,
With chaos and oblivion,
And tempers all inflated.
When peace gives way to lying,
When sin consumes all living,
When closest kin are dying,
Is God His grace still giving?
Oh! Seek the Lord in prayer,
For He gives peace in Bedlam,
He conquered the Dismayer,
When He was born in Bedlam.
So trust Him and obey his word,
Renew you wonder at His birth.