The Manger

 

My path has been a sorted one

before I came to see

the manger there on Christmas morn

that I was meant to be

From seed to plant to full strong tree

I thrived within my set

thought did me that I'd live there

my life without regret

Till spoiled day by wretched blade

wheeled deep within my tracts

the wounding of my patterned path

twas now beneath attack

The splitting force beat contraire way

that I could not believe

the sawing shaping binding strength

what craftsman minded me

And one by one my limbs did part

wrangled by craftsman hand

till formed in shape he had in mind

that I'd become a stand

And thus sat I now bent in shape

an intake trough to feed

where food was spread within my boughs

and cattle fed from me

And week by week my doleful fate

I wrestled day by day

twas not the tree I thought I'd be

that bore this load of hay

Till fateful day my course did change

the Craftsman God at work

that He might lay His baby Son

within my burdened lurk

And now inside my purposed bough

I saw God's plan for me

was well beyond my well thought way

that I thought I would be

And like my crib where Jesus lay

your life may alter too

the trials troubles and onslaughts

could just be forming you

To be the one He meant you'd be

His plan that you thought wrong

that you would fill His purposed life

He fashioned all along

By shaping you into the form

from one state to impart

that He might dwell in manger made

the one within your heart