Unto us a Child is born.
Unto us. In a broken world. Where sorrow runs deep. And grief overwhelms.
Where loss breaks our hearts.
And we forget to breathe.
Unto us a Child is born.
Unto us. In a broken world. Where sorrow runs deep. And grief overwhelms.
Where loss breaks our hearts.
And we forget to breathe.
Shepherd feet make paths. Up hills and through fields. As shepherds do what shepherds do.
Tending flocks. And keeping watch. Under sun and stars and moon. Alert for thieves and predators. Protecting the sheep.
And little do they know. Their ordinary feet are about to change. Into the extraordinary.
Beautiful feet.
Christmas approaches. Like a freight train. It’s that time of year.
Loud in commercials and sales. Glitz and glitter. Richly-colored wrapping and ribbons and bows.
Bright trees. Exquisite nativities. Christmas baking on point.
And the music. Playlists mixing winter themes and manger scenes. O Holy Night and a blue Christmas without you.
In the midst of it all? Hunger for something more.