Christmas Eve. The boys are sleeping. I am drifting toward there myself. I spent a lot of today disappointed in what Christmas Eve meant today.
Then, as often happens, Dad, Brother, and I headed out to dinner and stopped by a neighbor’s house to load his outdoor wood furnace. Brother left the headlights on, and as Dad got the furnace open, I turned to see a stable. Crooked, wooden, just big enough for a small animal . . or for a young couple and their new baby.
I expect this was once a dog pen, but tonight, it is Christ’s birthplace. Hidden behind a house where no one sees it. Unless of course, the path of everyday life leads them there, as it always does if we let it.
A manger, a crystal clear cold night, a little grief, and a lot of peace. Merry Christmas, all.
“All is Calm, All is Bright.”