The Gift: Ruth Harms Calkin

It's Christmas Lord

It's your birthday.

What can I give You–

You who have given

So much to me?

I search and search

Through my talents

My possessions

My friendships

My loves

But with all my searching

I find nothing new.

Strangely–

Whatever I could offer

Is always that

Which You have first

Given me.

And now in the soft silence

I hear you say

What I want from you–

Is you.

© Tyndale LIVING BOOKS 1993