I sipped coffee next to this beauty yesterday morning. He was quite distracting, especially since I hadn’t seen him in two weeks. Holding him took me back to that sweet place where the world fades away. And the respite proved refreshing.
I took on added responsibility this month, serving as the accompanist at my parent’s home church. While two Sunday services challenge my limits, an additional Christmas concert demanded time and attention last week. Ironically, as I recovered Monday morning, wandering in brain dead circles around my home, I ended up back at the piano.
The constant musical challenge enthralls me. But empties creative reserves. Thankfully, sitting next to my grandson yesterday took me back to the place of wonder.
Once home, I finished decorating inside and straightened the mess. When order reigned, I considered finishing one of several blog posts I started last week, but went to bed early instead. Crafting a worthwhile close still stymied me.
But when I woke in a clean house this morning, with music commitments calmed, and new baby photos to share, I read this, “And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them…” (Luke 2: 8 – 9 NIV).
And there I paused.
Because I normally read on to “… and they were terrified,” without truly pondering the notion that “the glory of the Lord shone around them.”
James and I talked about it during his piano lesson today. He knows the verses by heart. So, I asked the third grader, “What do you think the glory of the Lord looked like?”
Obviously reflective, he paused and said, “I don’t know… maybe a big light?”
Remembering his earlier comment about my nativity set, I offered, "Maybe it had a similar glow to my nativity set with the pearly finish. There might have been extra colors in the light."
He gave my suggestion some thought. But since he thinks the mix-matched buttons on the front of the shirt I wore today are “crazy,” my out-of-the-box thinking probably stretched his logic too far.
What about you? What do you picture?
In the middle of a dark night, heaven pierced through the sky, and God’s glory startled tired shepherds.
Do you believe it really happened?
Do you believe an angel appeared in the sky and said, “Do not be afraid I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all people. Today in the town of David, a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign for you. You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger" (Luke 2: 10 - 11 NIV).
I’ve heard the verses so many times, I race past their importance.
Do not be afraid.
I bring you good news.
News of great joy.
For all people.
A Savior has been born.
Go find him—the baby wrapped in cloths, lying in a manger.
For several weeks now, I haven't felt like me. It could be the change in churches. Or the intense pain I've undergone as a new physical therapist has worked to loosen muscle fascia. Or perhaps both of those combined with the stuff I'm not free to write.
I don't know.
But I do know that a long time ago, the night sky erupted as the glory of the Lord surprised unsuspecting shepherds. A glory I have yet to comprehend. And a glory that leads me to pause and worship and join with the heavenly hosts, praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests" (Luke 2: 14 NIV).
Most photos courtesy of pixabay.com
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