My Shepherd

It's only mid-October and the worn pages of my Bible already want to flip to Luke 2.  The anticipation of Christ coming is already fluttering through my heart, so I peek ahead and read Mary's song and Joseph's obedience and angel glory among the stars.

And there they are. . . in the middle of God with us. . . right in the center of holy made human. . . perhaps the most human of us. . . shepherds.  Since childhood I've wondered at this mystery of the shepherds.  Of all the people in all of the earth, why do we see the worn, wandering wilderness walkers. The keepers of livestock, with the scent of open air and dust and fleece clinging to their weathered skin.  These men who live slow, ceaselessly watching these low, little lambs.

These men who hold fast to the staff, who steer the wandering ones back to safety, to quiet waters and green pastures.  These peace seekers, these care givers, these shelter makers give their hours and moments and days to the care of the sheep.  Always seeking their interest, always protecting, always pursuing life.

Even in the night watches they are present. For the darkness proves to be a great testing ground where lurking wolves, and steepest slopes, and danger prowl the night. But the shepherd is there, ever watching his sheep.  And the sheep rest calm in the evening breezes, still in the shadows, ever trusting their faithful shepherd. 


Until one night, changes everything.


A new shepherd has come. . . One who will shepherd the people.  One who will bend low, and care, and show us the way.  One who will guide us in righteous paths and provide our every need, a restorer of souls.  A perfect Shepherd whose presence walks with us through the very valley of death's shadow and brings us into the shelter of His light.  One who gives abundantly of His truth and mercy and grace.

But now that servant Shepherd is wrapped in newborn skin and the holy human holds a virgin's hand. And there is cause for rejoicing because the mighty is made miniscule to feel our suffering and heal our hearts.

And who better to tell the world than a handful of men who know the ministry of shepherding?

I am glad the Maker of heaven and earth sent His holy messengers to tell the men on the hillside of Immanuel, God with Us. I believe it was no accident that the Good Shepherd told his friends first.  For He has come to seek and to save. . . just like a shepherd, my shepherd.

Glory

This. This is glory.

The majesty of the setting sun. The careful craftsmanship of the clouds. The shadows and light that create the masterpiece.

The movement. The stillness.

The Creator draws you in, unto Himself.  At this closing of the day, a time of reflection, of moments lived and love worn beautiful.  The passing of things and the dawning of the new.  The ever changing, yet constant skies. 


Like our God, always moving in directions to shine His glory, whether it is through His clouds or through our hands.  Longing to trace His beauty in a stream of light, in a stream of grace, in a stream of life - given out for man.


His eternal purpose is to show us His beauty and His glory.  We see glimpses in the golden sky, in the newborn smile, in the grasses green, and the mountains high.  But His goodness comes in drops, for our smallness cannot comprehend His beautiful while we walk this tainted sod.  He gives us doses of His nature, revealed in His creation.


Like a moving picture book that tells the story of His graciousness.  And He tells of what is to come, when new heaven is revealed and eternity shines in I AM alone.  The place where gold shimmers under our feet, because gold shivers in humility compared to the glory that is God. 


For His light will be our everlasting, His glory our salvation, His majesty our beginning and end.  Glory be to the King of Heaven, our Creator, our Lord!

Light

"Then Jesus again spoke to them, saying, 'I am the Light of the world; he who follows  Me will not walk in darkness, but will have the Light of life."  John 8:12

The days have been dark here of late.  Darkness in passion lost, darkness in the dreariness and drudgery of the everyday. Darkness in following a path that is not in the light. 

It is lonely in the dark . . . and frightening. 

I am so glad that His promise that was written thousands of lifetimes ago, still can give hope to a small, scared, wandering girl today. "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning!" Psalm 30:5

This hard weeping is but a watch in the night, a season, a moment in the story of time. And this night produces fruit. It brings forth hope, for when things are darkest that is when we look up. Look up to the Father and the heavens to see His face, always gentle, always loving, always seeking us.

He promises joy carried on the wings of morning. A true abiding joy that can only be a gift. . . given of the Spirit. A joy of contentment, a joy of gladness, joy in His presence. And this beautiful joy is always accompanied by the light. The light of His ways and the light of His Word. 

So there is hope that the Joy of morning is dawning, to shed a new light, direct a new path, and bring forth the presence of the Lord. Follow the Light of the World today, I know I am.