This poem has been published in Unwrapping His Presence: What We Really Need for Christmas and a slow and sudden God: 40 years of wonder.

i am an infant, 

crawling around on the floor. 

staring up at the stairway, 

i long to rise; 

stand, walk, run, climb, 

ascend to the top and meet God. 

but i am a baby, 

incapable of such a feat. 

God is there. 

i am here. 

the ten steps, * 

stone stairs that offer access to God 

are too formidable; 

i am too weak, 

too immature. 

God speaks from the majestic height: 

He has heard my cries. 

He sends a Rescuer 

Who descends the stairs, 

a Giant shrinking in size 

as He nears the bottom. 

i am shocked, stunned. 

when He arrives at the floor 

He is an infant 

crawling with me. 

He has become like me. 

but how will we climb the steps 

and arrive at the place of our longing? 

somehow this Babe lifts me up. 

one step. 

then two. 

then another. 

pushing and straining; 

i see what is happening: 

He is slowly dying, 

exhausting His energy 

by powering me to the top. 

i arrive at God’s presence 

full of sadness and joy; 

i sing for me and hurt 

for the Rescuer. 

i see God. 

i see God. 

i think i know Him. 

i think He knows me. 

He smiles. 

i cry. 

His smile looks similar to a Baby’s. 

my cry is now the cry of a man.

* (The Ten Commandments, Exodus 20: 1–17)