John Wright Follette
(1884-1966)
Once again the Christmas season
Finds our hearts in eager quest.
Tired of all the world may offer,
We would find a deeper rest.
Bethlehem, the prophets tell us,
Is the birthplace of God’s Son,
If we find Him and receive Him,
Then eternal rest is won.
We would seek His lowly manger,
There our choicest gifts to bring.
We would worship in the stable—
Now the throne room of a king.
Must we climb the hills of Judah?
Must we cross the desert sand,
Ere we find the holy Christ Child,
Or beside His manger stand?
Bethlehem is very near us,
And the manger is not far.
Do not wait angelic singing
Nor the guidance of a star.
Open wide your heart in giving
To the soul whose light is dim,
Spend your heart and life for others,
Giving gladly as to Him.
Distant journeys are not needed,
Bethlehem is everywhere.
Do the poor and needy call you?
Lo! the Christ is waiting there.
Hidden ’neath dull pain and sorrow,
Lives are bound by sin and fear —
Where the nearest one is calling,
Bethlehem is just so near.
