The Love You Must Have Had

words & music by Doug Howell (1973)

© 1980 Love’s Music, assigned to Creative Measures

Lord, to think You came down here
really makes me wonder
why we go on the way we do
hurting one another
it just don’t seem right
the way we give you second place
and You gave us the world
but we can’t seem to find You any space

Chorus
Jesus, Jesus, oh, sweet Jesus,
help us every day to better understand
Jesus, oh, Jesus,
never let us forget
the love You must have had
to become a man—
to become a man

Lord, they say it’s Christmas time
snow is on the meadow
and Christmas songs are everywhere
and trees in all the windows
but somethin’ just don’t feel the way
You said that it should be
and instead of thanking You we thank ourselves
Lord, help us now to see

Repeat Chorus

(instrumental)
it just don’t seem right
the way we give you second place
and You gave us the world
but we can’t seem to find You any space

Repeat Chorus

2018 Notes

If you’re like me, you just hate it when the Christmas season starts too early. When you go into the stores right after Halloween, and see the ghoulish gear being replaced by trees, baubles and bows. The ghost masks are barely in their boxes before they break out the Ghost of Christmas Future. I normally consider Thanksgiving the absolute demarcation point, and—no matter how much David protests—insist that the first Christmas movie viewed be Miracle on 34th Street, on Thanksgiving Day. Not one day earlier! But I’ve decided to break my own rule this year…

To stick with the seasonal theme just a bit longer (see my most recent song and blog posts for more on that: “Keep This Heart Tender” and “Learning the Seasons”), I thought the next song I needed to share with you had to be the only Christmas song I’ve ever written: “The Love You Must Have Had.”

New Jerusalem was scheduled to give a concert in Grosse Pointe, Michigan, during the Christmas season of 1973. As we were preparing for that, I got to thinking about the difference between what Christmas was supposed to be and what I saw all around me—and this song was born. As I remember, I sang it as a duet with Bobbi [now Bobbi Page—how I loved singing with her!]. My sister Doreen was there, too. (Left: Doreen and me in our 70s fashions after the concert).

You know, I think the most amazing thing about Christmas for me has always been why God would want to come here in the first place. I mean, why God would even consider leaving a loving, peaceful, beautiful heaven to come down here where we were always killing prophets and hurting each other, and just generally screwing up. But even more than that, to become one of us? To me, that was the riskiest part of the whole God-human adventure. Once He’d submitted Himself to the caprices of a very broken world, anything was possible. Even the worst. Why would He do that for us? For me? I’ve only ever been able to think of one reason big enough: Love.

A friend once shared with me her son’s commentary on church: “It’s always about Jeeeesussss and Mmmmarrrryyy, Mmmmarrrryyy and Jeeeesuuuusss her son…” (drawled out in a very disdainful tone). I’m afraid he won’t like this song much, either. There’s a lot of Jesus in it. But if we don’t make room for Jesus at Christmas, it doesn’t leave much hope for the other days, does it?

The song was recorded once in 1980, on a Christmas album by the wonderful group Living Water, who I became acquainted with through another wonderful group, Damascus. I’m very excited that I finally got the chance to do my own version.

So I hope you and yours have a wonderful, blessed Christmas this year, with plenty of Jesus in it. Please consider this my gift to that end. May God somehow help us all to better understand…

Note: Many thanks to Mark Bonica for allowing the use of his “Tidings” watercolor, featured here. Check out Mark’s photo stream. The painting has been cropped, and is used under the Creative Commons license.