I’ve been thinking about the shepherds in the Christmas story. I wanted to know what their prayer was like as the hurried across the fields toward a darkened Bethlehem. Surely, it was an urgent, gasping prayer. Surely it was a self-centered prayer, a prayer for strength, a prayer for survival.

How does prayer surface in the darkness? How does it surface when your lungs are burning and your heart beat is thundering in your ears? How does it surface when you can see the stars above, but not the rocks and gravel, the holes and hollows, beneath your feet? How does it surface when you are perspiring and shivering in the same moment.

I stepped outside at 9 p.m. and started down a long hill at an accelerated pace. Not running, but hurrying. “Show me something, Lord. What was it like for the shepherds?”

I reached the bottom of the hill easily, and then turned to ascend. I’m asthmatic so my lungs balked at the effort, my heartbeat accelerated. I pushed the pace. I wanted to hurry, to move with a purpose, to move with a passion. I felt the burn in my chest and my legs. Icy perspiration stung my face and neck.

I was laboring, wondering how far to carry the experiment, wondering if I could imagine the next mile in the dark, or did I need to continue on the road, to keep pushing myself toward something I could share.

A deer stepped onto the road ahead of me. I could see it clearly. He stopped to study me. I froze, remembering that someone once told me deer don’t see color, but they see movement. We shared the silent night for maybe 20 seconds. My eyes adjusted and I saw a second deer at the side of the road, watching me.

But in the encounter, my heart immediately quieted, my lungs relaxed, my perspiration dried, my legs no longer ached. I was at rest, restored, all was calm. In the darkness, all was bright. The deer startled and jogged away. I stayed and prayed for a few moments.

Is this what it was like for the shepherds, hurrying toward Bethlehem? I was imagining a panicked, desperate sprint to the manger. But perhaps, as they rushed toward the Creator, they were calmed by the beauty of His creation. When you can see Him on the road ahead, pain and panic melt, and the silent night becomes a holy night.

Photo by Avi

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