The Christmas Shepherd by Bryan Craig

The search has begun, as with every year.  Looking for joy, and some Christmas cheer.

I pull down the boxes and put up the lights.  I stare at their twinkling most every night.

I play all the music and watch all the shows.  Looking for details my mind doesn’t know.

I buy lots of gifts off long Christmas lists.  And I try to shop early, as the stores all insist.

I think about Santa, that old jolly soul. But he cannot fill where my heart has a hole.

So where is Christmas?  Where is it found?  I continued my search far out of town.

I drove to the country for confusion to clear.  And without the noise, I could finally hear.

Off in the distance, I saw a great sight.  A small quaint white church with a cross of great height.

It was built in a valley, surrounded by sheep.  Too many to count, but at least fifty deep.

I got out of my car and went through the gate.  The church beckoned me and, I couldn’t wait.

The door slowly creaked as I crept inside.  This seemed like a place where I could abide.

Sunlight was glowing through the windows it shone.  No one was present, but I did not feel alone.

As I sat in my pew, I experienced great peace.  The troubling thoughts finally had ceased.

I then saw a Bible laying open by me.  I noticed its page was on Psalm 23.

I re-read the words I’d read many times.  But this time was different, much more sublime.

The Lord is my shepherd, this statement was bold.  I thought how I’d known him since 13 years old.

But He has known me all of my life.  He’s been there through triumphs; He’s been there through strife.

He makes me lie down in green pastures, it said.  I felt His still waters the more that I read.

He has a path that is right and is good.  He is leading me there, if I only would.

Even when darkness and death do draw near.  My Shepherd says there is nothing to fear.

He stands guard over me with strength and with power.  When He is nearby, my enemies cower.

I have a seat at The King’s Christmas feast.  An anointed son, no longer the least.

My cup became full as I sat at His feet.  And right at that moment, I heard the sheep bleat.

I looked out the window, and my heart was so blessed.  The whole flock of sheep laid down to rest.

All of my struggling and all of my stress had melted away by the Shepherd’s caress.

I knew of His goodness, His gentle mercy.  And finally at Christmas, my heart was set free.

I wanted to stay here the rest of my days, to stay in His presence and upon Him to graze.

But I knew I was needed in pastures back home.  And I knew He’d be with me, wherever I roam.

I’d finally found Christmas, it was here all along.  It is right by my Shepherd, which is where I belong.

And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to his people in the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God, whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.  Luke 1:76-79