The Junk Pile

In this season of giving, I feel honored to receive the gifts of friends in the form of their thoughts and contributions to this site. C. Ann Gerber did not write the following as a Christmas poem, yet it tells the glad tidings of Christmas, the essence of the Christmas story. Christ comes to rescue us!


The Junk Pile

Like a rag, wrung out and discarded,
Exhausted and filthy, afraid;
Aware of the whispers around her:
“Alone, in the bed that she made.”

She lay there, so tired of struggling;
The enemy left, he was done.
In that instant, she felt a new Presence,
And shielded her eyes from the Son.

His hands, strong and gentle, caressed her;
A remnant, a shell, torn and broke.
He whispered, “My rare, precious treasure.”
His words breathed acceptance and hope.

Satan reeled back in time to discover
How wrong, how presumptuous he’d been;
What he had left maimed and disfigured,
Was spotless and rising again.

He fled when he saw her Redeemer;
What measure of grace this would tell–
To those who had seen her disposed of
And worthy of nothing but hell.

God’s found not by mountains of splendor,
Or clear sparkling fountains of blue;
He waits, out of town, by the junk pile,
He’s looking for me and for you.


1 I will love Thee, O Lord, my strength. 2 The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; 3 I will call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised: so shall I be saved from mine enemies. 17 He delivered me from my strong enemy, and from them which hated me: for they were too strong for me. (Psalm 18)

8 With everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord, 10 My kindness shall not depart from thee. (Isaiah 54)

20 He delivered me because He delighted in me. (II Samuel 22)

11 For the Lord God is a sun and shield: the Lord will give grace and glory: (Psalm 84)

C. Ann Gerber


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