Greetings! Welcome back to my “Love Notes”! Just a word of explanation to my Christmas poem below. I have always loved the connection between sheep and God’s people. As well as the idea that I am Jesus’s little lamb! A friend who knows my love for sheep, sent me the picture above and I treasure it. It seems fitting therefore, to pair it with my story-poem of The Lamb. What a sweet picture! And further, what a beautiful picture in the words. I hope you will enjoy it! Merry Christmas, all you little lambs! Know you are loved in a special way by the Shepherd of your souls!
The night is dark and chill.
Grateful for my rough robe, I pull it tightly around me. A baby lamb nestles in the crook of my arm and I rest my cheek against its woolly side. Lulled by the fluttering beat of its tiny heart, I sleep. From slumber to terror in the blink of an eye. A penetrating light, a presence, a being speaking in our midst. We bolt upright, fists pressed against eyelids burning from the glowing radiance. “Do not fear,” we hear. “Today is born your Savior.” The lamb bleats in fright and I know I’m holding him too tightly, but the sky is suddenly filled with—can it be—angels? Singing! Praising God! As quickly as it began the spectacle is over and we gaze after it in awe. Quietly, purposefully, the older shepherds turn toward Bethlehem, darkly silhouetted against the starry sky. I struggle to follow; I am just a child, frightened to be left behind. Small legs running, sandals flapping on the narrow rutted road, and my lamb, my little pet lamb, snuggling against my chest. I cannot think of leaving him, he is all I have. The city is inky and still; No lights here, no celebration— But we creep to a quiet stable from which brightness spills into the street. A straw-filled trough holds a babe; a young man and a pretty girl huddle close by with animals shuffling about, disturbed by the unrest. I can only see between the legs of the bigger shepherds, but my heart suddenly fills with joy. Is it true? Is this the moment we’ve all waited for? The Messiah? The promised Lamb? The One Who will be our savior? I must get closer; I must look for myself. Pushing through the group, I peer at the babe and inside me, like a breath from Heaven; I somehow know He is the One. Again, my little lamb bleats; again I’m holding him too tight. I love him so. Yet an impulse greater than I can understand bids me let go, and I lay my lamb at the feet of the Lamb of God.