       Away in a manger,

No crib for His bed

The little Lord Jesus

Laid down His sweet head

        The stars in the bright sky

Looked down where He lay

The little Lord Jesus

Asleep on the hay

       The cattle are lowing

The poor Baby wakes

But little Lord Jesus

No crying He makes

       I love Thee, Lord Jesus

Look down from the sky

And stay by my side,

‘Til morning is nigh

       Be near me, Lord Jesus,

I ask Thee to stay

Close by me forever

And love me, I pray

        Bless all the dear children

In Thy tender care

And take us to heaven

To live with Thee there

On this last Friday, December 14^th, I was awakened much earlier than I expected as I had been working into the small hours of the night. It felt incisive, as though I was instantly alert, and that there was an urgency of prayer. I didn’t have a theme, so I asked the Lord, in a rather unusual way to give me one of the old hymns to pray, as the words to all the verses are remembered so readily when they are put to song. He gave me a Christmas Carol (I had not expected that, even though the season was fitting), the lyrics of which are quoted above to Away in a Manger.

I looked at the digital clock in the dark bedroom. It’s red quivering numbers told me that it was precisely 6:36am, Pacific Time. During my prayer, which follows, I had no knowledge of the tragedy happening at the same time (9:36am Eastern Time) in Newtown, Connecticut. The Lord wanted that place to be covered in prayer!

I started the prayer following the verses of the song and it suddenly became a vision that the Lord gave me about sweet and valiant armies of children. I somehow felt unworthy to sing the song never realizing before how fully it is a child’s song. I had the sense that unless I could become humble and accepting like the little-ones, then and only then, could I keep up with the precious lyrics. I prayed to have the dignity and transparency that the children have when they sing this trusting song, so that I could continue.

The armies of children were of varying ages--of the young elementary school years. They were so beautifully from all the races, and both boys and girls marched before my eyes. They marched with no animosity or discrimination amongst their ranks. There was such bright and genuine fraternity in their groupings--really like the sweetest play.

I saw what an immeasureable treasure they are to the heart of Jesus, and how they belonged to all of us to protect and defend, as He would have us to do. I also saw how they moved in such love and unity toward a worthy goal, each one valuing the other as much as they did their own life. I prayed to be equal to such darling nobility, as they seemed to me to be marching upward. Their purity and beauty was so touching that I thought I would lose the thread of the simple lyrics. I kept saying the song like a prayer of encouragement over the little ones, even though I regularly felt unsuitable to pray anything for their dear knowing hearts. They were the ones encouraging me.

By the end of the song (many times over), the faces of the children had given me the courage to claim each verse for myself, as well as for them. And I knew that His final tender care of us is, as the last lines say, that He will take us to heaven to live with Him there--because the children had shown me the necessity of bearing a Child of God’s heart within our breasts, no matter our age.

The repetition of the song/prayer ended and I fell back to sleep with such a sense of honor for having been awakened to see such dear beauties, for their reminder to me that Jesus never hindered one of the little-ones to come to Him, and I knew that my heart needed the lesson to become more like a child. I had seen their hearts, and I also wanted that same transparency.

A couple of hours later when I awoke, I knew that we had a long and challenging day ahead of us as we were changing our provider for all of our media, computers, and the phones in our home. The workman arrived at 9:00am and the tasks were demanding with lots of decisions about transferring data, making connections, and drilling lines. I didn’t have the ability to see any news, or read any postings until about 3:00pm. That was when I heard about the horrific events at the Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Conn. I was stricken with a heart-sickness over the loss of the children and their wonderful defenders.

I still did not make any connection to my early morning prayer, not until I heard the awful time of the horror at the Sandy Hook School. It was 9:36am Eastern Time--the same time that I had been called on the Pacific Coast to intercede for the ones so dear to my heart, and for the brave adults who covered them.

I knew I had seen an army of gorgeous children, and now I knew why I had been brought to this precise prayer. I wondered if there had been a whole other army awakened at the same time to uphold the dear children--to lessen their fear, to exhort them into the arms of Jesus, to let them know that the Baby that they sang about knew everything that they had, or would ever face, as He brought them to Himself.

He had become one of them, so that they could trust in Him for their ultimate safety. They could know that as the song said, He is always near them, close by, forever. The purity of the children that I saw in the prayer that I prayed earlier gave me a peace that the real children in their schoolrooms must have seen Jesus’ face even at the time of such horrible earthly fear, and that they were instantly embraced in a way that only The Parent can love, and hold, and tender, and allay the fears of His own.

My prayer and vision over this heart wrenchingly terrible event has nothing to do with answering any of the why questions. It is only about one small woman’s heart that was wonderfully called to prayer on such a dark day and to meet the beaming faces of each beloved child as they marched into heaven to the tune of Away in a Manger. How I shall never forget their love for me, which flowed from the child’s testimony of the heart of Jesus’ love: “Bless all the dear Children in Thy tender care and take us to heaven to live with Thee there.” I shall never be the same by the glimpse of the glory of their dear countenances on the day of their home going to blessed Jesus.

“Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children; and walk in love, just as Christ also loved you and gave Himself up for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God as a fragrant aroma.” Ephesians 5:1

A beloved child walks in the manger-way by the One Who called Himself the Way. Oh, to be such an imitator, to be such a fragrant aroma--far better than a bouquet of two dozen or more white roses!