A Weary World Rejoices - By Tim Hardman
Welcome to the wary
And especially the weary,
I think I feel the SAME
It's been a right week at WORK
The rest has been too SHORT
And you know the GAME
Starts all over AGAIN tomorrow
And so the worry and the SORROW
starts tonight
How much longer is it till the mulled wine?

Times are hard
I’m worn down
Worn out
The wear and the tear
I’m looking at the trouble over there
And over here at the fear,
(sometimes that is all I hear)
And worry can we do it?
Question is it fair?
Asking how big is their share?

Shall we limit the places at the table by playing musical chairs?

Virus, energy, war, wages, food, economy scares
Like as the good news keeps on retreating
We burn our own seats at the table
As alternative heating.
Cos we thought energy from the source was too costly
Looking at this equation like today, what will this cost me?

But if I stop
And think what it cost Him
To pay for each of my sins

I’m covered
And I genuinely start to shudder
I thought I was too far
Too deep
Too dead
To reach

You know, I thought this was just old furniture
Just some awkward antique
that I threw on the fire for some heat
I’d rather get something Swedish and fashionable, made of pine
And now I'm pining for so much more
Aaarrgh, I'm realising the terror or this error

After this fall,
I'm stuck
and can't get up
I need HELP
It looked so thrilling
But this long lie is killing me
And honestly
I don't think anyone can hear my yells

This could be it
This is shockingly bad
Certainly sad at the very least.
I had a place at the feast.

I know, gigs are the best when packed to the max
And you know the footy is popping when it’s absolutely stacked
And it's good for parties too
But FULL starts to get weary on the bus,
and pretty smelly on the tube
And downright painful in the A&E waiting room
But in the place you call home,
standing-room-only ends up pretty lonely.

Struggling to relate
Reliving all those mistakes
Wishing I had STOOD on the brakes
But now I can't take the weight off
So I'm waiting laden
Resting on my own 2 feet
Wearily wishing and weary of wishing that I still had my seat.

But……

Imagine being pregnant
when at just the right time
a census is called
and it’s not online
Cos this is Caesar's thing in years of old
So you are told
To Journey 90 miles
Through bandit lands
That’s about 4 or 5 days
And then you get to Bethlehem and there’s nowhere to stay
And you’re in labour
That’s weary

And the baby is born
Well done
You have just given birth
There’s shepherds, alright?
And these foreigners turn up with gold, OK
Incense and myrrh
Incense and myrrh?
That is NOT on the baby list!
I wonder if Mary was weirded out at that gift?

Incense is for a priest making a way between people and God
To rise like prayers on the heat of a sacrifice
Sacrifice that none of use want to do,
none of us think is nice
But this is how he’ll reconcile between heaven and earth
And this is why the Magi gave the myrrh
It gets used as painkiller and burial spice
This baby's gonna need myrrh cos
He IS the sacrifice.
Prophets called him the Prince of Peace
Because at his name
oppression will cease

Whether its trafficking, slavery or lies that bind and contain
Waiting, anxiety or regret simple and plain
How EVER the soul suffers
Those wise men would have been wise to bring bolt cutters
Because this King is the one who breaks chains.

It’s Christmas, so don’t forget the GOLD held by the kings in lands afar.
This Christmas watching the stories unfold in Qatar
Will end in a victory that endures
as long as the next tour
That's only 4 years time
Apparently that’s how long you can stay in your prime.
But for that moment the best efforts and weakness of the one team
are exchanged for the prize
that glints and gleams
and captures everyone's eyes.

That trophy, refined in the fire.
That prize meant to inspire.
Calm, there is no chance you can win it
That’s not the way to see it
You ARE the treasure
and that might sound odd

Are you bringing all good, probably NOT
Money bags, maybe,
but this year and next probably not
Warzone or not
Speak English or not
Relying on your faith, your actions or your theory
Weary or cheery,
He loves you a lot.

You are the Prize Jesus saw
When he transcended
To go from almighty to utterly dependent
When he stepped out of heaven to join us on earth
In his everlasting arms hold you
You'll feel the weight of your worth

This is not trickle down
This is wholesale giving up the majesty
To breathe air and be bound by gravity
Things he made as Lord with all the power but not Lording it
Like the Powers who abuse it sordidly

This is the king with no royal highness
What is the lowest royal title?
I think I see him in the bible
Emmanuel
God with US
Who steps down
Walks with
That we would be levelled UP

Whatever the hopes and fears for your future
If you don't think Jesus will suit ya
Whether your past or their's is their's or your fault
And the back of your mind is worried about the holy lightning bolts
Relax, there won't be lightening bolts
JESUS is the present you're coming to see
Let his faith be the gift you are willing to receive
To know WHO Jesus is
What he has done
The very reason he was born
is for the weary and the worn.

Whatever your religion, attraction, culture or words, it doesn't change facts that
Jesus is Lord
Where EVER you are from in the world

Jesus ain't just for the British,
your neighbours or colleagues,
the successful, the naive, the rich or the poor,
he isn't for some,
he is for all
So people come, let us adore!

Tim Hardman
© Tim Hardman 2022