Category: Christmas

The Inn at Bethlehem

Husbands can be such a draw back

( A gossiping Inn Keepers wife , spoken rather loudly, as if to a neighbor. )

My husband will never be rich or famous, he’s too soft hearted,

He’s the living proof of “A fool and his money are soon parted”.

A heart-rending story and he’d give his bed away,

Here ! To show I’m not lying, take what happened yesterday.

We run this Inn for profit, right ? We’re packed , five to a room,

I was serving lunches, he was playing stable-groom,

When walks this young couple, She was pretty near her time:

I simply said “we have no room” you’d think it was a crime.

“My dear, you can’t turn folk like that away”, my husband whined,

“And her in that condition, it would be most unkind” .

I just turned my back on him and served at the next table :

Later on I learned he’d put them in our Stable !

He took out food and drink to them , all at no extra cost.

The blankets came from his own bed, I bet he turned and tossed !

I’m up at five each morning to get the fires lit,

We’re not in bed till nearly two, there’s not much time to sit.

But last night, would you believe it . he hardly slept at all

He was playing midwife in the stable . Oh he’s such a fool.

He let those thieving shepherds in “To see the little baby” .

He says he feels just wonderful. Well I say that’s as may be.

But we’ll make no money out of it, our Inn’ll get no fame,

We’re not like a Jerusalem Inn with guests in Herod’s name

No nothing will ever happens in this Inn in Bethlehem

We’ll know no fame or fortune or live it up like them.

‘ Cos my husband’s too soft hearted, I wed a silly fool,

He’ll always care for others, for himself just not at all.

( I publish this early for those who have to prepare well in advance

But it is not too early to ask God to Bless your coming Celebration of Our Lord’s birth )

Gerald Gossage

The shepherds had an angel, the wise men had a star,

The shepherds came from near at hand, the wise men from afar,

We too would visit Bethlehem, But it’s many years too far,

But Christ will come to visit us, and He comes to where we are.

Joseph was a carpenter, Mary a teen age maid,

The Son of God in poverty was in a manger laid,

We’ll never see the Son of God unless He gives us aid,

But a wounded hand He stretches out, and calls us to be saved.

The inn was overflowing, no room, not even a bed,

There’s now so many lonely, and in poverty t’is said,

I hope to see, this Christmas, those poor folk being fed.

O Lord recall that manger, and give them daily bread.

This Christmas I must show my love more than I’ve shown before,

For God has shown His love to me, for all my sins He bore.

Let’s look beyond the stable, to the tomb with open door,

And know His love will keep us now, and on for evermore.

The stable has a message, His hand held out to save,

For Jesus Christ was born to die, and rise up from the grave,

His hand is now stretched out to you from that empty open cave,

Believe in Him, and walk with Him, Have courage, and be brave.

So see beyond the tinsel and the lighted Christmas Tree,

Beyond the cards and wishes, that come to you and me.

Tell others “It’s His Birthday” and love them happily,

And show your love to God above, now and eternally.

( Poem By Gerald Gossage)

“A Christmas Poem”

Out from the noisy kitchen came the innkeeper with a scowl,

“I can only spare a minute” – he was wiping his hands on a towel.

I asked about that morning, in the year of census time,

The babe he’d put in the stable, with the animals and grime.

He plainly wasn’t pleased to lose a moment in this way,

But with righteous indignation here’s what he had to say:

“It happened all too suddenly, Why did I have no warning?”

“How on earth was I to know He’d be my guest that morning?”

“The angels never came to me to book his room with pride,

And I was crowded out in there, He had to stay outside”.

“It wasn’t business like I say, it wasn’t properly done;

They need more help up there in heaven to get things properly run”.

“When folks are rushed right off their feet, and don’t know where to turn,

They haven’t time for babes and things, when will religion learn?”

“They say that child was God Himself and then say gloatingly,

At the inn there was no room, and they blame it onto me?”

“Alright, let them say it; but may their conscience prod,

When you’re as busy as I was then,

Have you got time for God?”

Written by Rev. Gerald Gossage