That He stepped down amazes us,
 leaving the glory bearing His name.
 How far He stepped down amazes more,
 the distance, I mean.
 He came, promised, from way up there
 to way down here, as if to say,
 “Heaven to earth, heaven to earth,
 I’m on my way.”

A moon-walker, traveling upward,
 took a first step, and called it giant for mankind.
 This One’s earthward stoop, more giant still,
 left footprints of God embodied as man
 on terra firma,
 Creator turned invader, as if to say,
 “Heaven to earth, heaven to earth,
 I’ve come to save.”

He could have come as a super-human hero;
 instead, He came as a baby, homeless born.
 He could have come as a titled prince;
 instead, He came as a carpenter’s son.
 He could have claimed privilege and right;
 instead, He chose a cross, as if to say,
 “Heaven to earth, heaven to earth,
 “I’ve come to die, then rise.”

The distance leaves us stunned at grace’s stoop,
 from way up there to way down here
 where sinners live and die in the dark,
 and the sick cry out for healing,
 and little ones climb trees to see Him
 and believe Him, as if to say,
 “Earth to heaven, earth to heaven,
 He’s come for us!”

Now we must stoop, nowhere as far as He,
 but far enough to embody Christ within us,
 Word made flesh, God with us in inner space,
 real as bread, fresh as water, rich as wine,
 to serve , from way up here
 to way down there, as if to say,
 “Earth to earth, earth to earth,
 “He comes in us for you.”