the messiah

messiah

Radiant angels hovered o’er-head
on that joyous first Christmas night;
They brought good news to poor shepherds
in bright auras of Glory Light.
Though fearful, the rugged watchmen
hurried off to search for the King,
for they believed the Messiah
would come as a sin offering.

The shadowy stable, they found
as they came to the edge of town.
No visitors, no bright angels,
just a wee baby lying down.
The peace they felt in that stable
settled into their needy souls.
They touched Him and knew this Baby
came to heal and make them whole.

Poem by Connie Faust
Photo by Aaron Paul Lazar

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