Twas the day after Christmas.
No angels lighting up the heavens,
No shepherds racing through the streets with breathless joy,
Declaring, A Savior is born!
Did they cling to the echoes of miracles past?
Did they hold their breath in the stillness,
Believing in the glory that had swept through their lives just a day before?
Though the angels’ voices had faded,
Did the melody still hum within their hearts?
Mary, her body weary from the strain of birth,
Did she cradle not just her child, but the wonder of it all—
The awe in the shepherds’ tear-streaked faces,
The quiet holiness that had enveloped the stable?
It was the day after miracles had split history in two,
The day after heaven’s light kissed the earth.
Did they still believe? Did they still hope?
Did they still marvel in the stillness?
The Savior, wrapped in swaddling clothes, lay as worthy—
As holy, as glorious—
As He had been the night the angels sang.
So, let us not let our adoration fade,
Simply because the skies are silent today.
Let our hearts adore Him all the more,
For the wonder of His coming
Is not bound to a single day🤍
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