Almost You’re Smiling

Since tomorrow is Christmas Day, I wanted to share one of my original songs with you. A Youtube video of me singing “Almost You’re Smiling” can be seen here.  A free lead sheet is available here.

If you’re like me, you’ve often wished you had been around two thousand years ago to witness Jesus’s life and ministry in person. But wishing doesn’t change the fact we were born two millennia too late.

Rather than fret about it, let’s imagine we were among the shepherds who saw and listened to the angels’ spectacular announcement of Jesus’s birth–no Super Bowl commercials could come close to matching it!–and have come to the stable, where we’re looking at Jesus as a newborn.

Hmm. No matter how special the angels said He was, He looks pretty much like any other baby, doesn’t He? Or does He look a little bit more peaceful than a regular baby as he lies there sleeping?

He opens His eyes. He appears to look first at you and then at me. Strange. Newborns aren’t able to focus that way, are they? More amazing still, He appears to be deep in thought. But babies can’t think yet; thought requires a knowledge of language, something  babies aren’t born with.

Of course, we know He’s both human and divine. So isn’t it possible He can observe things a normal baby can’t observe? And think or feel things babies shouldn’t be able to think or feel?  Alas, the Bible doesn’t tell us.

I speak to baby Jesus, aware that He shouldn’t be able to understand me. Yet He appears to be listening to my words. Perhaps even comprehending them. As if He might truly be more than just an ordinary baby. After all, fully human and fully divine is a strange and powerful combination. Not to mention a unique one.

Yes, Jesus is unique. Even so, I’m certain He won’t be able to answer my questions or comment about my observations. But I’ll ask and comment anyway.

“Little baby in a manger, almost You’re crying.
Can it be You feel the coldness of the world You’ve come to?
Do You somehow miss the warmth You’ve left at home in Heaven?
Little baby in a manger, almost You’re crying.

Do you see Yourself as just an ordinary baby,
Or do You somehow recognize that You’re the Son of God?

Little baby in a stable, almost You’re smiling.
Can it be You feel the joy of those who wait Your coming?
Do You somehow know what hope You’ve brought to earth from Heaven?
Little baby in a stable, almost You’re smiling.

Do you see Yourself as just an ordinary baby,
Or do You somehow recognize that You’re the Son of God?”

I don’t know how Jesus differed from ordinary babies while–at the same time–still being quite ordinary. It doesn’t  matter. Even as a baby, He deserved and deserves my praise and adoration–during the whole year. Not just at Christmas.

Please share a comment.

I’ll be back again next Sunday. If you’d like to receive my posts by email, go to “Follow Blog via Email” at the upper right.

Best regards,


Links you might be interested in:


Growing More Emotional

I’ve never been one of those guys who thought that crying is unmanly. Then again, I’ve never thought of myself as “Mr. Macho.” No one else has ever thought of me that way, either.

Nonetheless, I never used to be much of a cry-er. As a child, I recall crying twice, although I may have done it more often than that. Once was one of those very few times I received a spanking. The other was when my parents told me we were moving away from the town we’d lived in for the first eight years of my life.

If I cried as a teen or young adult, I don’t remember it.

Except in 1976 at the death of the baby my ex- and I had. Beth lived three days after her normal birth. If you want to read about that, I would refer you to Yesterday’s Blossoms.

As I started growing a bit older, I sometimes got teary at the end of a movie or of a very moving book.

But do you know what’s REALLY weird? I can’t believe I’m about to admit this publicly because some of you are going to think me completely unfeeling. But when my parents died–my father in 1993 and my  mother the following year?

I didn’t cry. I was sad, yes. But I knew they were in Heaven, and I couldn’t be but so sad about that. I would miss them, yes. But tears? For whatever reason, they just wouldn’t come.

Flash forward to reaching my fifties and now my sixties. Tearfulness comes at the least expected times.

Still from books and movies. But also when someone comes forward at church to make a profession of faith in Christ or gets baptized. Or while I’m paying a complete stranger a sincere compliment. Or  thanking someone for even the smallest of favors. Even when someone is thanking me for something. These examples don’t begin to scratch the teary surface.

Gracious! Some people might really think this new-found emotionality is a true sign of aging gracelessly. But–doggone it–I’m thankful I’m still able to feel. If anything, I wish this change had occurred years earlier.

Okay. Your turn now. Especially you guys. What’s your take on displaying your emotions? Please leave a comment to share your view.


I’ll be back again on Sunday. If you’d like to receive my posts by email, just go to “Follow Blog via Email” at the upper right.

By the way, “On Aging Gracelessly” isn’t my only blog. I use “As I Come Singing”check it out here–to post lyrics of the Christian songs I’ve written over the last fifty years. Free lead sheets (tune, words, and chords) are available for many of them. Check here to see the list.

Best regards,