Peace Be Still




Still, Still, Still

Words by G. Götsch and its melody by Süss during the 1810’s


Still, still, still,
One can hear the falling snow.
For all is hushed,
The world is sleeping,
Holy Star its vigil keeping.
Still, still, still,
One can hear the falling snow.


It snowed today; snow falls in a hushed silence; the cold clarity of each flake can almost be detected in the stillness. In the South, plans, activities, intentions, all take a backseat to snow falling, filling the air with crisp coolness rare and unusual in the humid southern states. Young and old alike celebrate the icy event with enthusiasm. Schools close; shops and factories adjust their hours; stores are cleaned out of milk and bread, though why I’ve never known. “Stop!” I want to shout, “Be still … be quiet … don’t you know the Lord is asking us all to stop, look, and listen?”  


Sleep, sleep, sleep,
‘Tis the eve of our Saviour’s birth.
The night is peaceful all around you,
Close your eyes,
Let sleep surround you.
Sleep, sleep, sleep,
‘Tis the eve of our Savior’s birth.


Sleep can be restful; sleep can be wakeful; sleep can be peaceful; sleep can prepare us for what lies ahead. Could anything have prepared us for Jesus’ birth? It appears that even after His birth, the men of the day were looking for a warrior, a king, a savior strong and mighty. They were not prepared for a helpless babe born a seemingly shameful birth of an unwed woman. They were asleep when the event occurred. Their only concern was of worldly adherence to the government’s census. A small family in need of a place to stay for the night did not concern them. Even the shepherds feared the message delivered from a choir of angels. Only the animals who shared their stall with the Christ Child seemed to understand the import of what they were witnessing. As our pets know certain things about our emotions, so too, other animals sense signals we either cannot comprehend or simply ignore. An impending storm, Christ’s birth, unlike anything the world has ever known, was sensed, felt, experienced by just a few mortals and the animals stabled there; warm, snug, belly’s full, and sleepy, yet there they were, alongside the cradle of the Creator of the World! 


Dream, dream, dream,
Of the joyous day to come.
While guardian angels without number,
Watch you as you sweetly slumber.
Dream, dream, dream,
Of the joyous day to come.


Did You have joyous days, Jesus? Did You play and run and sing and dance with playmates Your age? Did You dream of what You might be when You grew up? Did guardian angels watch over You? Or did You dream of what lay ahead for the Son of Man. I choose to think You did have a joyous childhood. I choose to think You laughed and cried. I choose to think Your Mother dried Your tears with her apron. I choose to think You lived much during Your short time on Earth. Otherwise how could You possibly know what it is like to be human? Wasn’t that part of the why of Your being a babe who grew to manhood? We needed a savior who knew from what we needed saving! I pray You had joyous days, Dear Jesus. I choose to think of You running and jumping and skipping and hopping like any other boy. I choose to think Your time here on Earth was not just suffering, but a life lived loving, laughing, and longing to be with others here. I choose to think You liked it  … You liked us … You want us to come home … You want to share Your Kingdom with us!

I can’t wait to share all this with You, Dear Lord. Amen

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