Be brave

This month, this song is haunting me.

No one believes me, no one believes meThey shake their heads and say“What good comes from Bethlehem?” I know what I saw, I know what I saw And it was just like they said Just like they said it would be Wrapped in a cloth, laid in a mangerYears later I walked by this placeI know this placeThe roof caved in, but I know this placeCause I ran the whole wayAnd it was just like they said

We get one glimpse of the shepherds. We don’t know their names or if they were friends or how many there were. We don’t know anything about them before or after. They are minding their own business and suddenly the sky …


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Two years ago, I wrote a blog post called “A Quiet Thing” about anticipation and Advent.

We had recently won an exhausting custody battle and the post was about how we can spend months or even years looking forward to something, only to be surprised by how different it feels when it actually happens. At those moments, the bells don’t ring and the choir doesn’t sing. . . . the happiness is actually a quiet thing.

In that blog post I forecasted feeling the same way if I ever held a book with my name on the front cover. And sure enough, that also feels very different. As I write this it’s close to midnight. I am sprawled on our couch listening …

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