All right, the same Andrew Peterson album I just mentioned has one of my other favourite “Christmas” songs too.  Oddly enough, it isn’t actually sung by Andrew either.  (Sorry Andrew, don’t read too much into that.)

This one’s sung by Derek Webb, and it’s been on me since I posted back HERE apparently.  The video below is a “raw-er” version than the polished CD track, but it’ll get you the basics.

Deliver Us

Our enemy, our captor is no Pharaoh on the Nile.
Our toil is neither mud nor brick nor sand.
Our ankles bear no callouses from chains,
Yet Lord, we’re bound.
Imprisoned here, we dwell in our own land.

Deliver us, deliver us.
Oh Yahweh, hear our cry,
And gather us beneath Your wings tonight.

Our sins,they are more numerous than all the lambs we slay.
These shackles, they were made with our own hands.
Our toil is our atonement and our freedom Yours to give.
So Yahweh, break Your silence if You can.

‘Jerusalem, Jerusalem
How often I have longed
To gather you beneath My gentle wings.’

This has been one of my favourite Christmas songs the past couple years. It’s from an Andrew Peterson album called “Behold the Lamb of God”; the song’s titled “Labour of Love”.

It was not a silent night
There was blood on the ground
You could hear a woman cry
In the alleyways that night
On the streets of David’s town

And the stable was not clean
And the cobblestones were cold
And little Mary full of grace
With the tears upon her face
Had no mother’s hand to hold

It was a labor of pain
It was a cold sky above
But for the girl on the ground in the dark
With every beat of her beautiful heart
It was a labor of love

Noble Joseph at her side
Callused hands and weary eyes
There were no midwives to be found
In the streets of David’s town
In the middle of the night

So he held her and he prayed
Shafts of moonlight on his face
But the baby in her womb
He was the maker of the moon
He was the Author of the faith
That could make the mountains move

It was a labor of pain
It was a cold sky above
But for the girl on the ground in the dark
With every beat of her beautiful heart
It was a labor of love
For little Mary full of grace
With the tears upon her face
It was a labor of love